


reckoning

by pumpkinless



Series: gatekeeper [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM Scene, Blow Jobs, Boot Worship, Cock Slapping, Cock Warming, Consent Play, Crying, Deepthroating, Dom/sub, Face Slapping, Face-Fucking, Facials, Hair-pulling, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Married Sheith, Military Kink, Name-Calling, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Roleplay, Semi-Public Sex, Shiro (Voltron) Has a Large Cock, Size Kink, Size Queen Keith (Voltron), Spanking, Spreader Bars, Verbal Humiliation, authority kink, boot kink, hole slapping, i'm owning up to it now that's what this series is, possessiveness kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-03-08 10:07:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 32,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18892459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pumpkinless/pseuds/pumpkinless
Summary: “I think it’s appropriate to thank me properly.”“Properly, sir?”Shirogane stares so intently that Keith feels seen to the depths of his soul. “I’d like to see more of that exceptional dedication that got you to where you are today, Lieutenant Commander. As a reminder of who noticed your potential.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> WELL this sequel surprised the heck out of me! i've been vaguely plotting it for a while but i ended up sitting down this weekend and slamming out the first part so here we are.
> 
> i might drop the number of chapters as it goes, but this is currently fully plotted as a sort of "3 times plus 1" fic and i might end up combining two, depending on length. and of course i will be adding tags as i go, but i don't think anything else major is going to come up!
> 
> and with that, i hope you enjoy ;)

The first time Admiral Shirogane summons Keith to his office, it’s long after lights out for the cadets and even more past the time when any reasonable officer has vacated their office for the day. Shirogane, though, is the Admiral who never sleeps, and when Keith’s phone trills triumphantly with the message, he finds himself with no choice but to go. It offers no room for argument.

_ My office - 2200 _

Keith is already in his quarters for the night. He pulls his boots back on with effort, doing up the laces with military precision, and pulls his officer’s jacket on over his T-shirt and uniform pants. He looks at himself in the mirror on the way out the door.

He looks like a normal officer. Nothing special, nothing exciting.

But Keith isn’t a fool. It’s been two weeks since he walked into that hotel lobby where the Admiral waited for him. Two weeks since Keith gave up more of himself to his superior officer than he’s ever given a lover, in terms of sheer debasement. Keith can’t stop thinking about it, the unexpectedness of it all and the utter depravity. He hates what Shirogane has done to him—not for the act itself, but for the fact that Keith can’t go a day without remembering it. He’ll catch a glimpse of the Admiral in the halls, across the room, anywhere, and the sense memory of Shirogane’s dick slapping his cheek comes rushing back. In the officer’s cafeteria and he recalls the dizzying sensation of pain and the flash of arousal that comes with it. Find himself close enough to see Shirogane’s eyes and remember how they burned.

In his most shameful moments, Keith has laid in his bed, all the lights off, no one but god to judge him, and touched himself to the memory, sometimes with his fingers inside himself, but they’re never enough to satisfy him. He thinks of Shirogane calling him a whore and pulling on Keith’s hair until his eyes tear up in pain. Keith wants it so badly and he would do anything not to want it anymore. He’s tasted something so sweet that every other bite pales beside it.

The hallways are empty. 

Keith starts out walking fast but slows his pace before too long. He doesn’t want to stand out as suspicious, doesn’t want a lone person wandering the halls to see him and question where he’s going in such a hurry this time of night. Even the most mundane explanation, Keith couldn’t bear to say.

And maybe, deep down, there’s a war in his heart—get there too fast and he might seem eager. Too slow, and it becomes reluctance.

Shirogane’s door looks like every other door along this hallway. Nothing about it stands out except the little nameplate next to it reading  _ Admiral Takashi Shirogane, _ spelled out again in Braille underneath. 

Keith’s fingers ghost over the raised letters. 

He’s going to do this. He doesn’t know what  _ this  _ is, yet, but he knows Shirogane will have something to ask of him.

Rapping his knuckles twice on the door, Keith shifts into a military approved posture, hands behind his back and shoulders held stiff and straight. The door slides open silently.

Admiral Shirogane has a smirk on his face. There’s no other way to describe the expression, and it gives Keith such a nervous feeling in his gut that he almost steps back instead of forward over the threshold. It takes every ounce of strength to take that first step inside.

“Good evening, sir,” he forces himself to say. The door slides shut behind him.

“Lieutenant,” Shirogane says, inclining his head the barest amount. “Though I suppose now I should address you as Lieutenant Commander.”

It feels like a trick question. “If you like, sir.”

“If I like?”

“I—yes, sir.”

“Is Lieutenant Commander not your rank?”

It absolutely is. Keith received the notice from Command just yesterday that he had been granted a promotion for, quote, going above and beyond in his dedication to his work at the Garrison. Keith wonders if, somewhere on the paperwork Admiral Shirogane submitted recommending his promotion, there’s a section where he got to write that exact phrase.

Above and beyond in his dedication. Keith has certainly done something dedicated to reach this point.

“It is, sir,” Keith says a beat too late. Shirogane raises an eyebrow at him. “I only meant that you . . . you can use whatever title you like, sir.”

Silence falls. Shirogane leans back in his chair and crosses his arms, his bicep and shoulders straining at the fabric that contains them. Keith’s breath comes faster—from nerves, from attraction, who knows—and he clenches his hands tight behind his back.

“Come here, boy.”

Keith bristles at the word; boy is hardly a title, but maybe it’s accurate to how the Admiral thinks of him. He steps forward to stand in between the two chairs that face Shirogane’s desk, meant for people with far more leverage than Keith has. 

The Admiral rises from his chair. He walks around the desk, each step of his black leather boots purposeful on the floor.

He doesn’t touch Keith. He slides into the space between Keith and the front of the desk, not so close that Keith has to back away but close enough that he wants to. Keith doesn’t know where to look—in the eye feels like too much, too bold and challenging, but his only other options are so obvious in displaying that Keith isn’t interested in paying close attention. He has nowhere to hide.

“I have something for you,” Admiral Shirogane says. He turns to the side slightly and picks up a small box from his desk, holding it out to Keith until he takes it.

Inside is a pin, meant to represent his change in rank. Keith will receive a new uniform jacket in the coming days with the appropriate stripes, but this he apparently gets right now. It’s official, then. Keith really did sleep his way into a promotion, and he can’t say that he regrets it.

Shirogane asks, “May I?”

Not understanding the question, Keith still answers in the affirmative. To his surprise, the Admiral lifts the pin out of the box and fastens it carefully in the correct place on Keith’s uniform jacket. It brings him even closer to Keith, so close that Keith swears he can feel the sensation of his breath on Keith’s cheek.

“I’d like to offer my congratulations on your promotion,” Shirogane says when it’s done. His fingers smooth out a crease in Keith’s uniform caused by his work. 

Voice hoarse, Keith whispers, “Thank you, sir.”

“I think it’s appropriate to thank me properly.”

“Properly, sir?”

Shirogane stares so intently that Keith feels seen to the depths of his soul. “I’d like to see more of that exceptional dedication that got you to where you are today, Lieutenant Commander. As a reminder of who noticed your potential.”

Keith’s head dips and he swallows, hard. He’s dizzy on the scent of the Admiral’s cologne, something woodsy and deep.

“What did you have in mind, sir?”

The unmistakable sound of a belt buckle coming undone clangs through the air. A shiver runs down Keith’s spine.

“On your knees.”

Keith sinks down, down, alighting on the ground with an ease he doesn’t feel. He can’t explain the feeling of wanting this and not wanting it at the same time—he hates that this is what he’s been reduced to, like he’s just some talentless fool whoring himself out in order to keep his job. Keith is skilled, actually, and ambitious too, but there are only so many people who can get promoted and only so many people willing to promote someone with a disciplinary track record like his.

Shirogane is capitalizing on that weakness—the ambition and the hope—and Keith is too desperate to really want to say no. 

And the worst part isn’t watching Shirogane pull down his own zipper. The worst part, actually, is Keith’s mouth salivating with excitement, his own dick getting hard in his pants without anyone even touching him. Shirogane is an awful, exploitative man, and Keith wants him so fucking much.

“You’ll do better for me this time,” Shirogane says. He’s half hard and still his size is impressive. 

“I’ll try my best, sir.”

Keith doesn’t expect the slap at all. It comes out of the blue, the Admiral striking his cheek fast and hard enough that Keith’s head whips to the side and a cry falls from his lips. He pants like he’s out of breath already.

“Sir—”

“Shut up.” The voice thunders down at him even though Shirogane has barely raised his voice; Keith shuts up in fear and his stomach tightens with heat and arousal. “I told you, you’ll do better for me this time. You’re gonna fucking choke yourself on my cock until I come down your pathetic little throat, and then you’re gonna fucking thank me for letting you swallow my come, got it?”

Keith wheezes.

A warning tap to his cheek jolts Keith into answering.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good.” Shirogane smooths his hand over the top of Keith’s head, almost soothing for a split second, but then he sinks his fingers into it and tightens his grip hard until Keith moans, half pained. “Suck my cock, boy. Make it good.”

Shirogane drags Keith forward, smashing Keith’s face into the base of his cock, coarse hair rubbing against his skin. Keith takes a deep, shuddering breath there to ground himself, and the scent of Shirogane overwhelms him. Here, the clean, manly smell of cologne drops away completely, and there’s nothing but the scent of skin and sex and something Keith doesn’t know how to name but it makes him  _ burn  _ with desire. 

Keith can’t help himself. He moans. 

Above him, Shirogane snorts but doesn’t comment. Keith almost wants him to, to hear the Admiral comment on what a whore Keith really is for liking this. It was supposed to be a one time business transaction and Keith doesn’t know quite how he’s gotten himself into so much more, but it’s bringing out a side of him that Keith didn’t know existed.

But that doesn’t matter now.

Keith presses a messy kiss to the base of Shirogane’s cock, the only part of it he can reach. He could swear it’s bigger than he remembers.

The hand in his hair loosens its grip just enough that Keith can move and continue on. He mouths up the side of Shirogane’s cock, trying to make a show of it, to show how deep his appreciation runs—for the promotion, for Shirogane’s favor, for the thick cock in front of him.

This time, the Admiral didn’t say he couldn’t use his hands, so Keith wraps the fingers of both hands around the base, holding his cock steady as Keith moves. His eyes slip shut when he gets to the head, already wet from waiting for him. He sucks on just the very tip of it, trying to get up the courage to open his eyes and look up. Keith wants to look  _ sexy,  _ like someone worth wanting, even though he hates that desperation living in himself.

Shirogane murmurs, “Open your mouth up, suck on it. That’s it.”

Now the difficult part. Keith lets the Admiral’s cock split his mouth open at a leisurely pace, taking more and more of him into his mouth until Keith feels like it’s impossible to go any farther. It’s so much like this, inside him, filling him up, and Keith moans again as he moves, his head bobbing back and forth, hands moving in tandem.

Keith is harder than he’s ever been, aching in his pants. 

He takes the Admiral’s cock as deep and hard as he can, pouring enthusiasm into every movement. He has to make this count, to not disappoint Shirogane like Keith did last time when he wasn’t able to take enough. 

Slightly more practiced now, Keith still struggles—it’s a constant fight to get the pace right, to not go so deep he chokes, to mitigate the fact that Shirogane isn’t checking the movement of his hips at all. He rolls forward when he wants deeper, spearing inside Keith’s mouth and fucking him like Keith isn’t doing anything at all.

Keith is used just like that, except somehow he’s participating in making Shirogane use him, opening up and welcoming him. All Keith can think about is trying not to choke.

Shirogane pulls out. “Good,” he says, sounding slightly breathless. That’s a triumph for Keith. “Take me deeper. You can do that, right?”

Keith doesn’t know; it doesn’t feel possible. But he burns for the thought of trying.

“Yes, sir,” he says with a scratchy throat already.

“That’s what I want to hear.”

Shirogane pushes his cock back inside Keith’s mouth unceremoniously, his hand on the back of Keith’s head firm but not guiding. He lets Keith really do it all himself, especially pushing himself down. It’s hard to tell if Keith is really taking Shirogane any deeper; he feels just as full as ever. 

There’s spit everywhere and each time he thinks he’s got Shirogane as deep as he could possibly go, Keith forces himself to find just a little more room, make a little more space. 

He’ll suck the Admiral off better than he’s ever had.

It’s at this moment that the heat gets too much for Keith to handle. He’s burning up, his cock absolutely screaming for attention, for relief, for anything Keith wanted to give himself, and so he drops his shaking hands to the button of his pants. Just that touch alone sends rolling shivers of pleasure down Keith’s spine, taunting him with the sensation of what is about to come. He wants to reach the edge and tumble off, to find relief and pleasure and—

Everything stops.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Shirogane snarls, his hand tightening into a fierce grip on Keith’s hair. The Admiral yanks Keith’s head back, forcing him to look up. “Did I say you’re allowed to get off while you’re thanking me for my generosity, you fucking slut?”

Tears prick at the corner of his eyes as he babbles out apologies. “I’m sorry—please—I didn’t—”

Keith sees the slap coming. His whole body shivers and he squeezes his eyes shut tight to brace himself. The confused fear and excitement bubbles up inside him, overwhelming, and Keith doesn’t catch himself in time to stop.

“No!”

The blow never comes. Keith realizes too late that it was him who cried no, his voice, and it sends a shiver of dread up his spine; he doesn’t say  _ no  _ to the man who owns him now, who literally has the ability to ruin Keith’s career and life with just a wave of his hand.

Everything is still.

Then a thumb brushes Keith’s chin, pushing up over his bottom lip and into his mouth, pressing down just as a brief reminder. “No?”

Keith shudders as fresh tears well up in his eyes. There’s so much in that one word when it comes out of the Admiral’s mouth. Even though Keith can hardly think, he knows exactly which meaning he doesn’t want, so he raises his eyes and looks Shirogane directly in the eye. “Admiral,” he whispers, “sir, I’m sorry.”

Shirogane studies him for a long moment. Keith wonders what he sees—if it’s just the man desperate for his promotion, or a man desperate to be owned in the best way, or something else entirely. He doesn’t know. Keith hopes he doesn’t see the fact that Keith screamed  _ no _ not out of fear of pain, but out of the fear of the pleasure inside himself—the way every time Shirogane slaps him or calls him names or humiliates him with a mocking laugh, Keith’s cock throbs in time with his voice. When Shirogane hits him, it’s like a lightning bolt of pleasure right to his brain, more humbling than Shirogane could ever be.

Keith is a reasonable man. But he can’t take much more.

“You’re very pretty, you know that?” Shirogane asks out of the blue. “Especially when you cry like this.”

Keith breathes out a shuddering sigh, uncertain how to respond.

“That was a compliment.”

“Oh.” Keith swallows. “Thank you, sir.”

Shirogane, balanced upright on both legs, shifts his stance and Keith, sitting on his heels, tenses in response. The Admiral nudges the toe of his boot up against the crotch of Keith’s pants, brushing over where he’s hard and throbbing. 

Keith stops breathing when Shirogane lifts his boot and lets it rest right over Keith’s cock.

“Hm,” Shirogane murmurs. The pressure increases for the barest second and then disappears completely, Keith’s whole world rocked to its core and no indication left that it ever happened. “I thought it was a fluke last time, but you really get off on this, don’t you?”

Keith has to catch his pride in his teeth. “Yes, sir.” 

Looking thoughtful, Shirogane leans back, resting on the edge of his desk, cock just out of Keith’s reach as Shirogane strokes himself absently. “Tell me what you like about it.”

“I—sir?”

Shirogane raises an eyebrow at him.

Keith’s face burns. He doesn’t know what to say—the truth is embarrassing and there’s so much of it, but at the same time he wants Admiral Shirogane to know what he’s done to Keith, what he  _ does _ to Keith.

“I don’t know if I can,” he says.

“You’ll find a way.”

It’s said so confidently, so full of surety that Keith believes him on the spot. He will find a way. Has to, now that the gauntlet has been thrown down because that’s just the way his mind works. 

“I like it when someone else is—in charge,” Keith finally admits. “When you order me around and don’t let me decide. And being punished, it’s—it’s—” Keith loses the thread of his words. “It hurts, but I like it.”

“Fuck,” Shirogane growls, his hand tight on his cock now, stroking with purpose. Keith follows his hand with hungry eyes; he wants to put his mouth on the leaking head of Shirogane’s cock, to tilt his face up in supplication and let Shirogane make a mess of his skin and hair when he refuses to let Keith swallow him because it would be too much of a reward.

“And you’re big,” Keith blurts out, going for broke—what’s the point in hiding the truth? “You’re so—I’ve never had one like yours. It’s so much and I just—it makes me—makes me take everything.” Keith shudders just remembering what it was like to have Shirogane’s massive dick deep inside him two weeks ago, splitting him open,  _ ruining _ him forever for anything lesser. “It hurts but I—I like it,” he confesses, his humiliated gaze dropping to the floor.  _ I like it so much. _

“You’re so fucking—”

Shirogane doesn’t finish the thought. Instead, he lets go of his cock and reaches for Keith’s hair, seizing him with fingers covered in his own precome and Keith’s spit. Keith barely manages to open his mouth in time for Shirogane to press his cock inside, pushing deep and unrelenting. Keith chokes and his hands fly to Shirogane’s thick thighs, his fingers digging into hard muscle to ground himself or maybe to get ready to push away—but there’s no time to think about it. Shirogane fucks his mouth without regard, and Keith, filthy and teary-eyed, he fucking moans for it. He loves this, he loves how Shirogane pushes deep, taunting Keith with the brutal possibility of taking him all, and he loves that he can’t even fucking do anything about it. Keith is nothing here, an open, drooling mouth, a desperate needy thing for Shirogane to own.

Keith forgets everything else. His eyes are only half open, unseeing, and he is  _ used. _

It’s awful. Awful how much he loves this, how it makes him open up for more without question. 

He’s crying when Shirogane pulls out to slap his cheek. Keith sobs, ragged and broken, but he looks up with hope in his eyes—he wants to come so much, wants to swallow the Admiral down until there’s nothing—

“I own you,” Shirogane snarls, his metal fingers gripping Keith’s hair so tight. “Your career, your mouth, your dick, you got that?”

_ “Please.” _

The Admiral holds him in place for the blow that lands hard on Keith’s wet cheek. “You’ll be here whenever I tell you to, right here on your knees. You’re not even going to  _ come _ unless I tell you it’s okay, yeah?”

Keith tries to shake his head—he won’t give up that much of himself, he can’t. But that’s not a good enough answer for a man like the Admiral, who asks him again, knowing that every word breaks Keith down more, makes him want to give more, to do anything to be allowed to put his mouth back on the cock just out of his reach.

Keith promises things he doesn’t even register. He needs the affirmation, the validation, the way Shirogane says, “That’s what I thought,” and fucks back into Keith’s mouth while he’s still trying to catch his breath from crying.

It ends with Shirogane holding Keith in place while he jerks himself off and comes all over Keith’s lips and chin, Shirogane demanding that Keith keep his mouth open and not dare fucking move. The Admiral comes apart above him and Keith is already broken too, but he gives himself up, closes his eyes, takes every humiliating drop, lets it land in his mouth and make his face messy. This is what he wants to be, where he deserves to kneel, and Keith hates that it makes him feel like he’ll come on the spot if his pants rub the wrong way on his cock.

He really is that desperate.

When it’s almost over, Keith hears panting breath coming from one or both of them and the soft buzz of static in his ears. Come drips down his chin and Keith can only pray in the deepest recesses of his mind that it doesn’t get all down the front of his uniform.

A whispered, “Fuck.” It’s not from Keith.

Shirogane lets go of his hair and for one moment Keith is untethered and lost. He’s caught, kept from tipping into freefall, by a mouth descending on his—Shirogane kisses him with a wild groan, biting at Keith’s bottom lip and licking his own come from Keith’s mouth. It’s disgusting but it’s somehow what Keith needs, and he forgets himself. He forgets who this is and who Keith is in relation to him, and he grabs Shirogane’s face with both hands, kissing him back with equal ferocity, turning their relationship on its head for one brief moment.

The Admiral doesn’t stop him, though, doesn’t push him away and punish him for the presumption. Instead, he pulls Keith to his feet, heedless of how Keith’s legs ache and shake, and he whirls them around so he can trap Keith between his body and the desk. It’s brutal and Shirogane growls, biting Keith hard enough that Keith can feel his lip bruise.

They’re animals. Shirogane kisses him like a starving wolf and Keith is another predator threatening his territory. Keith’s hands scrabble at the Admiral’s uniformed shoulders, wishing with his whole heart that he could touch bare skin instead, and he finds no relief from it. 

A thigh makes its way between Keith’s legs, pressing right against where he’s the most vulnerable. Keith shakes and finally the Admiral breaks the kiss.

He pulls back to look at Keith. 

There’s come smeared around his mouth, probably looking as much of a sight as Keith himself. “Don’t you dare come,” Shirogane whispers, even as he grinds up against Keith. “Prove to me you can control yourself, that I shouldn’t write you off as a liar.”

“I can,” Keith promises through a scratchy throat, but at the same time, he thinks it might be a lie. “I can—I won’t come.”

“Good,” Shirogane says. He doesn’t let up for even a second. “I’d hate to have to strip you of your new rank just because you couldn’t handle one little order.”

Keith’s breath stutters. That’s—that’s not in the cards, that was never on the table.

“You heard me,” the Admiral says with a dark chuckle. His hand wraps itself around Keith’s throat just below his jaw, holding him in place with a tight grip. It doesn’t impair Keith’s ability to breathe, but maybe he wants it to. “You’re here with me until I get bored with you. And I expect obedience, discipline, and your mouth to be wide open whenever I fucking want it to be, you got it? You spread your fucking legs whenever I tell you to or I’ll ruin your career.”

That’s not hot. That’s  _ not _ hot, but suddenly there’s an orgasm brewing in the pit of Keith’s stomach, in his toes, in his throat, every nerve ending suddenly on fire. 

“Sir—sir, please, I’m going to—I don’t want—”

Understanding dawns in Shirogane’s eyes. The pressure on Keith’s cock disappears, and it’s just like being doused with a bucket of freezing water. The building sensation collapses and Keith is bereft, but Shirogane has a proud smirk on his face.

“I knew you would do it,” the Admiral says. He actually sounds pleased. 

Shirogane releases Keith entirely, stepping back from him with a composure that Keith can’t fathom. He does up his pants and belt while Keith watches in shock, baffled as to how he can move on in an instant while Keith is still reeling from denial and overexertion.

“You can go, Lieutenant Commander,” the Admiral says as he steps around his desk to retrieve a handkerchief to wipe his mouth off with. “I’ll be in touch.”

***

Keith goes to bed that night still aching for the release he was denied. His stupid husband is there, smirking around a toothbrush in the bathroom while Keith lies flat on his back on top of the covers and glares at the ceiling. He hates having promises extracted from him in the heat of the moment when he’s desperate enough to say anything and later when he’s stubborn enough to follow through on them. Keith hates taking back his promises.

“You’re so fucking cute,” Shiro says fondly. 

Keith turns his head to the side to glare at him instead. A shirtless Shiro has his hand planted on his hip, the prosthetic already powered down on the side table, and his smile tugs at the corners of his eyes in the best way.

Keith wants to punch him in the throat.

Shiro climbs into bed, nudging Keith out of the way so he can pull the covers out from underneath him and cover them both up. Pulling Keith in close, Shiro plants a kiss on the crown of his head. “I love you so much,” he whispers against Keith’s forehead.

Half grumbling, Keith says, “Love you too.”

“Just say the word at any time, baby, and it’s all over,” Shiro reminds him. It isn’t condescending or untrusting.

Instead of answering, Keith curls around Shiro. He pushes a leg between Shiro’s thighs and wraps an arm around Shiro’s back to clutch at his back, pushing his face into Shiro’s collarbone. Shiro urges him even closer, rolling his body into Keith’s and holding him tight.

“Lights out,” Shiro says above him, and the computer plunges them into darkness.

After a moment of consideration, Keith gropes Shiro’s ass over his pajama pants, an appreciative squeeze. He really wants to fuck Shiro right now, all his pent up energy begging to go somewhere, and his fingers creep inward. Shiro’s legs are spread just enough for Keith to stroke a finger over his hole and imagine—imagine Shiro facedown on their bed, sighing happily into Keith’s fingers working him open and wet, ass pushed up and thighs spread wide to give Keith the best angle to work with.

Keith kisses Shiro’s collarbone wetly, a form of a question.

“You can do whatever you want to me,” Shiro informs him, “except get your dick wet, baby.”

“Shiro,” Keith whines.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

It was hot in the moment, Keith argues to himself. Actually, it’s still hot out of the moment, but he can’t help that promising and following through are two very different things.

Keith squeezes Shiro’s ass one more time, considering—he could still touch him, finger him, maybe use his mouth and get Shiro worked up and panting for it—and there would be satisfaction in taking Shiro apart. But it’s not the kind that Keith wants and it wouldn’t actually bring him any release.

“Fuck,” he says, mostly cursing himself. He slides his hand off Shiro’s ass and presses his fingers into the dimples that show on either side of Shiro’s spine. This spot is less tempting but not any less enticing.

Shiro laughs, low, and he squeezes the arm wrapped around Keith. “You’ll get what you need,” he promises, voice already thick with sleepiness. He doesn’t have the same built up frustration as Keith does and it’s infuriating. “I’ll make sure of it, Keith.”

“Ugh.”

That gets him a laugh, then Shiro says, “Oh! I forgot, wait.” 

Pulling half out of Keith’s embrace, Shiro reaches behind himself to slap his hand at his side table. He picks up a thin chain and nudges Keith until he takes it in his hands. “Help me get this open,” Shiro says. 

Keith fumbles with the clasp in the dark, but it finally goes. Shiro hums in satisfaction as he feels for the smaller ring and slides it off the chain. He finds Keith’s hand and pushes the ring onto the correct finger, forever annoyingly as dexterous with just one hand as Keith is himself.

Still. The ring puts a big smile on his face.

“Good night, baby.”

Keith presses his lips to his wedding ring out of habit. He says, “Night, Shiro,” and it’s the last thing spoken that night.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “For some reason, there are people suspicious that you’re trading sexual favors for career opportunities,” the Admiral says, tone light, like this isn’t a problem at all. Keith’s heart starts beating hard and fast in his chest as Shirogane stands up, looming tall and imposing over Keith as he walks around the desk. “And not with me, which I thought was especially interesting.”
> 
> “I—I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
> 
> “Computer,” Shirogane says, “engage privacy locks.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> new tags added please check them out!!

It’s the middle of the day.

Keith walks through the Garrison halls with short, measured steps, arms held stiff at his side. He’s supposed to be at lunch right now, in between meetings about fall class schedules and the construction of a new runway on the east side of the Garrison compound. Just days into the life of a newly promoted officer, he doesn’t have time for breaks longer than it takes for him to scarf down a sandwich and he’s okay with that—this is for the sake of his career, for the rest of his life so that Keith can finally reach the stars one day.

But when Admiral Shirogane calls, Keith is duty bound to attend to him, even if it comes at the cost of missing a meal. This is _also_ for the sake of his career. Mostly.

This time of day, there are other officers in the hallways, open office doors, and a fair amount of conversation. It heightens Keith’s nerves, making this whole situation feel that much more illicit. God knows what these people think he’s here to do, if they’re even thinking about him at all. Keith passes a woman he knows vaguely through formal Garrison events and they nod at each other while walking, their faces both set in serious expressions.

Maybe Shirogane doesn’t want what Keith thinks he does. Keith isn’t exactly quiet when it’s happening, after all, and even Shirogane has got to have something to lose if they were ever found out.

Not nearly as much as Keith, though.

The Admiral’s office door is wide open when Keith reaches it. Shirogane is bent over his desk reading something on a datapad, his brow furrowed deep with thought. Keith hesitates too long to announce himself and his boots squeak on the floor, betraying his presence.

“Officer,” Shirogane says with a quick glance up. “Take a seat, I’ll be with you in just a minute.”

“Yes, sir.”

The door slides closed behind him, the faint mechanical click signalling the lock engaging. Keith swears he can physically feel the seconds crawling over him to escape the silence that falls in its wake, nothing to do but alternate between staring at his hands and staring at Shirogane’s hands as he scrolls through his datapad. The barely cushioned plastic chair is uncomfortable to sit on for any length of time and Keith’s ass already hurts from it. Time ticks by, and ticks by, and ticks by, and Keith would swear that the Admiral is doing this on purpose to make him squirm. Keith would love to say that he’s too strong for it to get to him, but that would be a blatant lie.

“I heard an interesting rumor about you this morning,” Shirogane finally says. His actions are deliberate as he shuts down his datapad and looks up at Keith, fingers laced together to rest on the desk. “Do you happen to know anything about that?”

Keith does not know anything about that. He murmurs something in the negative, his heart already beating faster.

“For some reason, there are people suspicious that you’re trading sexual favors for career opportunities,” the Admiral says, tone light, like this isn’t a problem at all. Keith’s heart starts beating hard and fast in his chest as Shirogane stands up, looming tall and imposing over Keith as he walks around the desk. “And not with me, which I thought was especially interesting.”

“I—I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Keith doesn’t know how to defend himself; it’s not even remotely true, but if Shirogane has decided to believe a rumor Keith can’t do anything but deny it.

“Computer,” Shirogane says, “engage privacy locks.”

A faint robotic beep sounds and then the low hum of noise from the corridor outside fades away. Keith hadn’t even realized it was there in the background.

There’s silence for a long moment while Shirogane’s gaze bores deep into Keith’s, piercing and serious. Then, without warning, the Admiral grabs Keith by the chin and squeezes hard, jerking Keith’s face up to look at him. “What I’m _asking_ , officer, is are you sucking anyone else’s cock?”

Keith spits, _“No,”_ and tries to jerk out of Shirogane’s hold, but it’s futile—he just grips tighter.

“Are you that fucking desperate that I’m not enough for you?”

“No,” Keith gasps, “no, sir, I would never—”

“Really? You would _never?”_ Shirogane releases Keith with a shove that sends him falling back against the back of the chair, slumped with surprise. “You were so willing to spread your legs for me when I told you to, I have a hard time believing you’re anything but equal opportunity for anyone with more authority than you. Well? Am I wrong?”

Keith struggles to sit upright but Shirogane shoves him back again. He lifts his leg and plants the toe of his boot on the edge of the chair, just a bare inch away from Keith’s dick growing hard in his pants. “Sir—”

“I don’t know where you got the impression that I’m interested in sharing,” Shirogane interrupts. “Or in you shouting all over the Garrison what you’re doing here.”

He doesn't know where these accusations are coming from, only that they're wrong. Hardly able to believe he would suck off one person for a promotion, and even having already done that, Keith can't conceptualize what it would even mean for him to be passing himself around the admiralty. That isn't who he is _or_ who he wants to be.

But. It doesn't hurt that Shirogane is unofficially the single hottest person at the Garrison. Sleeping with him, even for completely corrupt moral reasons, is . . . tolerable.

Keith tries again to answer: “I’m sorry but I don’t—”

“Sorry isn’t good enough,” Shirogane snaps. “I got you your promotion, I got you better living quarters, better hours—everything you wanted, and you think you get to repay me like this?” The Admiral’s floating hand shoots out, fisting in the front of Keith’s shirt and hauling him up from his seat. He throws Keith chest-first over the front of the desk, and then the hand plants itself firmly on Keith’s back, keeping him down with his ass raised to the rest of the room. “I own you now,” the Admiral says as a hand slides over Keith’s ass, between his legs, over the sensitive part of his inner thighs. "And I do not tolerate disobedience."

Trying to steady his breath, Keith shuffles his legs and shifts his body, but the only thing it results in is his legs spread that much wider and his chest pressed hard to the wood beneath him. Keith still has all of his clothes on and he already feels utterly exposed.

“That wasn’t—wasn’t in our deal,” Keith pants out. He doesn’t know why he’s panting except to fight the dizzying wave of pleasure that rises when Shirogane squeezes his ass hard. “I don’t be—belong with you. To you.”

“You don’t?” Shirogane snorts and reaches around Keith to start undoing his pants. “What are you doing here, then?"

"You told me to come."

"And do you go crawling back to every man who slaps you around?”

Offended, Keith bites out, “I don’t _let_ anyone slap me around.”

The Admiral laughs, deep in his chest, and he pats Keith condescendingly on the ass. “Watch your tone, boy, you’re the one coming back for a third time. You already know how I’m gonna treat you.”

“Payment,” Keith says. “For the promotion.”

Shirogane’s touch is violating, indiscriminate in groping Keith’s cock with mild interest and then his ass. When Shirogane touches him like this, Keith feels like he's selling something—himself, his dignity, his ass, whatever. It leaves him yearning to be touched again by this man who does such awful things to Keith that no one else ever would, and it makes him feel like he’s floating in the air.

But the Admiral says, “I can't own anyone who never answers my messages after they find out just how demanding I am. I just assumed you were a slut.”

Keith’s jaw sets. Don’t talk back. Don’t scream in frustration. It isn’t worth it—Shirogane will get bored with him soon and then Keith can finally get back to living his life without the constant threat hanging over his head. He just has to—to endure this, or whatever he wants to call the way just thinking about the Admiral these days makes Keith’s cock harden.

“Hey.” Shirogane reaches up to slap his fingers on Keith’s cheek, jolting him back to the present. Keith can’t help his gasp. “That’s what I thought.”

In one swift move, Shirogane yanks Keith’s underwear and unzipped pants down to the middle of his thighs. There’s no more preamble; the Admiral rears his hand back for a strike and then he lands it hard on Keith’s ass.

Keith yelps with surprise, nowhere to go.

“Here’s the thing,” Shirogane says. He hits Keith again in exactly the same spot, clearly aiming for the maximum amount of pain. “I don’t like to share, officer. I don’t care how badly you need a cock in your mouth, mine is the only one you get from here on out, you got it?”

“I— _hn_.” Keith shudders under the onslaught—the Admiral doesn’t stop spanking Keith just because he’s talking. The pain, the disregard, the words, they all strike Keith like lightning, forcing Keith’s cock to fill with blood so fast he feels dizzy. Shirogane hits him hard and Keith scrabbles at the desk, knocking god knows what to the ground. The datapad, maybe, or a picture frame. That gets him the reward of the Admiral’s prosthetic hand grabbing both of Keith’s wrists and holding them tight at the hollow of Keith’s back, trapping his whole body in place in just one movement.

“Your ass looks so pretty like this,” Shirogane says. He scratches his nails over Keith’s sensitive skin, plying him for a reaction. Keith whimpers. “Maybe I need to punish you regularly. I think you need the discipline, and the result is just gorgeous. What do you think?”

All Keith can asay is _no_ —except every time Keith says no, Shirogane hits him hard enough that Keith jolts and his cock swells until it’s aching with arousal. His ass throbs and every slap makes him sob out a scream, but still it doesn’t end until Shirogane arbitrarily decides he wants to touch Keith’s cock instead, to stroke him tauntingly and play his fingertips across the head of Keith’s cock. It’s all a tease.

“Tell me, officer, when was the last time you touched yourself?” Shirogane asks, his voice so darkly gleeful that Keith knows his face must be set in a horrible, lecherous smirk. “I remember giving you an order last time to leave it alone.”

Keith remains stubbornly silent.

“Was it today? Yesterday?”

Sill, Keith will not respond.

But the Admiral still has a punishment to mitigate that. He _hmphs_ under his breath and then presses his fingertips to Keith’s asshole, just feeling it out. Shirogane hums to himself, and Keith still doesn’t understand, but it comes into view quickly when Shirogane puts the tip of his middle finger right in the center of Keith’s hole and starts pushing in. There’s no way he gets much farther than the fingernail, but that alone is enough for Keith to cry out.

Shirogane laughs at him. “Did you touch yourself?

“No,” Keith sobs, shaking his head as best he can with his chest pressed to the desk and his face stuck. “No, please, I swear I didn’t.”

With the admission, Shirogane pulls his finger out of Keith’s hole. But it doesn't stop him from squeezing Keith’s stinging ass, proprietary and uncaring of how much pain it causes Keith.

“Following my orders, then. Good. You belong to me and me only and if I so much as hear another rumor about your mouth—”

The possessiveness breaks Keith.

“I’m not _yours,”_ Keith argues, breathless. Silence falls and Keith curses himself for the insubordination.

“Sure,” the Admiral says after a long stretch of consideration. His big hand squeezes Keith’s ass again like a test and his metal hand tightens around Keith’s wrists, pushing harder into his back until every breath feels like labor. Keith’s legs tremble. "Do you remember our deal? When we began this?"

"It was supposed to be a blowjob,” Keith breathes.

“No, I said open your mouth.” The Admiral punctuates the statement by hitting Keith’s ass, just above his thighs. “I told you to obey me.” Slap. “I told you to spread your fucking legs and take what I gave you.” At that, Shirogane reaches between Keith's legs and grabs his cock, rougher than he's maybe ever been, and wraps his fingers around the base of it. “And I told you, boy, I promised you that if you took care of me, I would take care of you. And you agreed.”

“I didn't—”

Shirogane's next words are slow and delicate and filthy, his fingers again touching Keith’s hole, a threatening presence that makes Keith want to get fucked within an inch of his sanity. “You took my cock like a whore begging for his life. You took me so fucking deep inside you that you're never gonna get me out, do you get that? I own you. And not just because I fucked you. It's because somewhere in your pathetic brain, you want me to own you. You want me to use you _and_ the tight, slutty hole you have right here.”

The Admiral slaps Keith's hole then with his metal fingers, sudden and stinging. Keith yelps in pain, heedless of the time of day or who might be right outside. He's burning up from the inside out, and still Shirogane isn't done.

“You think I can just push my cock into any hole and it'll take me all the way? I know I’m fucking big, boy, and I know that it takes a little size queen slut to open up for me and have the hardest orgasm of their life while I'm fucking their ass." Shirogane growls it, every nasty, accusing word landing right in the deep well of heated arousal inside Keith. "And your mouth—I've never seen anyone choke their way as far down as you did. Never met an officer desperate enough for a new office that they cried for me while I came in their hair. So if you think you're not special, if you think you're not the exact little hot piece of ass I've been waiting to come along, you've got another thing coming. I'll use you up, boy, I will take everything you have and you're going to thank me for it. Do you know why?"

Keith shakes his head, weak all over. He feels shivery down to his toes.

But that's not good enough. The Admiral snarls and grabs Keith's hair, pulling him all the way up so Shirogane can say right into his ear, “I asked you why, officer.”

“Because I’m a slut,” he gasps. It's the first thing in his mind, the only thing that makes sense, but Shirogane just laughs and says to try again. "I'm desperate—I’m—I’m needy, I want cock, _please.”_

Keith doesn't know what he's begging for or if he's got the right answer, but the Admiral pushes him back down to the desk and cracks his hand against Keith's ass twice, once on either side.

"It's because after everything, after I humiliated you after I dragged you down into the pits of hell beside me, you came back. You didn't just let me take you, Keith. You delivered yourself."

Shirogane resumes the spanking. He bruises Keith's ass until it burns even when the Admiral isn't touching him, every crack of skin of skin sending Keith into a frenzy. He cries with the pain and every tear is hot on his cheeks—he wants to thank the Admiral, tell him he’s right to treat Keith like this, that it’s everything Keith has worked so hard for and exactly what he deserves.

“Come on, officer, don’t you know how to take it?” Shirogane's voice is almost maniacal with glee and Keith shakes his head moaning and sobbing and so desperate for more that he can't even think.

Every now and then another slap lands right over his hole, which is its own kind of pain that Keith secretly hordes. He likes the way it feels forbidden, like Shirogane really doesn’t care about his body and its limits. Keith cries into every hit, the tears falling down his face because they don’t care about Keith’s need to present himself as strong. They don’t care that the only thing keeping Keith from losing his mind right now is the promise of Shirogane’s cock pressing back inside him while he cries for the safe-dangerous kind of more.

It’s an unending experience, Shirogane forcing Keith to the brink over and over again. Keith can’t breathe but somehow he stutters out an irresistible moan.

It’s when Keith has relearned the definition of what pain can be that Shirogane stops.

He pulls back from Keith enough to shake his hand, letting go of Keith’s wrists in the process. He might be sore and in pain, but Keith finds that he lacks sympathy as much as he lacks an ass that’s going to let him sit down tomorrow. He won’t be able to forget this for a second.

Fingers prod at the rim of Keith's hole, rough and probing. Shirogane sighs out heavily through his nose and Keith tries to mentally prepare himself for Shirogane’s cock, the crazed, wide stretch him entering Keith’s body for no purpose other than taking pleasure from it. It’s easy to imagine exactly what it will be like. Keith is intimately familiar with what it’s like to be owned and used by this man.

A bottle of lube lands heavy on the desk next to Keith’s head, followed by the unmistakable sound of a zipper drawing open.

“Are you—are you going to—” But Keith can’t catch his breath. He shudders under the weight of everything that’s happened to him here.

“Waste my time fucking you?” Shirogane laughs, a mean thing. Keith’s mind stutters. “I took time out of my day already to punish you for being a slut and you want me to fuck you _knowing_ you’ll get off on it? You're not even wet and I have a meeting in fifteen minutes. I’m not waiting around for you to get ready for my cock.”

“But, sir—”

“ _But, sir,”_ Shirogane repeats in a mocking tone. “What are you complaining about? You’re not even supposed to want to be here.”

That shuts Keith up quick. Hot shame burns through him, the reminder too much for him to bear. Fucking, he understands. When Shirogane fucks him, even if it’s a blowjob, Keith can rationalize why it turns him on—it’s sex, it’s movement, it feels good because the Admiral knows what he’s doing and Keith’s always liked it a little on the rough side.

But this isn’t sex. Not yet, at least, not the part that has Keith’s cock hanging hard between his thighs.

Whatever this is, Keith pines for it.

"And next time I call you?" Shirogane asks, interrupting Keith’s thoughts. He lays a hard, three fingered slap over Keith's asshole and Keith jolts forward, shocked moan too loud for where they are. "I expect you to show up wet and open for me to get inside you, got it? I can't be wasting my time getting you ready to take me. You come here ready to get fucked by your Admiral or else."

“Yes, sir,” Keith says, breathy and hoarse and almost too quiet for his own ears.

“Excuse me?”

Louder but no more confident: “Yes, sir.”

Shirogane snorts. “That’s what I thought. Close your fucking legs.”

Keith’s feed are solid on the ground, weighing heavy like anchors. It shouldn’t be this much of a trial to move them and yet every flex of his muscles is like fighting physical restraints. Pulling his legs together pushes Keith’s ass up that much higher, exposing him just a _little_ more, and that’s all the Admiral needs to start talking again as he slicks his cock behind Keith.

“Look at this.” Shirogane’s metal hand squeezes half of Keith’s ass with interest. “You’ve got a beautiful fucking ass, you know that? Almost as beautiful as this.” His thumb presses against Keith’s hole. “Fuck.”

Shirogane notches the head of his cock against Keith’s hole. He doesn’t push, doesn’t move except to rub wetness around Keith, but it still makes Keith freeze up with suspicion. Shirogane laughs to himself about it, and just for the barest second, he puts enough pressure on Keith’s hole that Keith is _certain_ something will push inside him.

But the entrance never comes, leaving Keith panting and looking wide-eyed down at the desk. He wants to reach a hand between his own legs and touch until he makes a mess of it.

“Slut,” the Admiral says in a strangely teasing tone.

Shirogane’s cock slides so easily in between Keith’s thighs, making the way slick and ready for him. Like this, he’s free to fuck Keith exactly like he wants, and he takes the fullest advantage. He grips Keith’s hips tight, probably tight enough to bruise, and drags Keith back to meet every one of his thrusts.

It’s humiliating to be used like this. Keith can’t do anything except go along for the ride and that’s clearly just how Shirogane likes it. He pushes his long, thick cock right between Keith’s thighs, the slide slick from lube, and all it does is make Keith ache inside. He’s mad at himself, then, for not being ready, even though there’s no reason why he would have taken ten or twenty minutes before this meeting to finger himself open on the off chance that Shirogane wanted Keith and wasn’t patient enough to wait.

How bad does Keith want this? How truly, deeply invested is he that his superior officer spanking him and then fucking his thighs is hotter than anything else in the world?

Shirogane fucks him hard, suddenly, and Keith’s feet slip. He rights himself, but it isn’t good enough and Shirogane snaps, “Put your legs back together.”

Keith does his best and plants his hands on the desk to stay balanced.

“Did I not tell you to fucking tighten up?” Shirogane slaps him, hard, the metal of his palm rending a brutal sting on Keith’s ass. He cries out through clenched teeth and drops his forehead to the wood underneath his head. “I can’t fuck you, so the least you can do is make it good.”

Keith nods, desperate, and his breaths come in harsher pants as Shirogane moves faster and faster, chasing his pleasure and using Keith’s body like the easy fuck he is.

“That’s it,” Shirogane says. He sounds so, _so_ slightly out of breath and it makes Keith hope he’s going to be done soon. Keith can’t take much more of this before he drives himself crazy with arousal. “I can’t believe you’re still getting off on this,” the Admiral says. He squeezes his hand and Keith whimpers—that could make him come before too long, but he doesn’t dare tell Shirogane to get his hand off Keith’s cock.

But the touch doesn’t last, even as the rest of it goes on forever. Keith knows it’s only a matter of minutes, that it’s impossible for this to actually last as long as it feels, but he’s so lost in his head and the rush of the touch that he doesn’t really register the passage of time.

Shirogane groans low and rough as he comes, making a mess of Keith’s inner thighs. He shudders above Keith in the only moment of vulnerability that he’ll allow himself here.

Keith can taste the wildness in the air.

A slow moment of silence and heavy breathing passes, shocking after everything that’s happened here. But Shirogane gets himself together, pulling away from Keith’s body and remaking himself back into the dedicated, honorable Admiral he’s supposed to be, and Keith can only push himself up from the desk with arms shaking from arousal and disbelief. Hands return to him and Shirogane is rough in yanking Keith’s pants up again, and he’s kind enough to rebutton, zip, and buckle his belt. Not kind enough to wipe the mess of come off of Keith’s skin first, but that probably gets him off, knowing that Keith will have to walk back home like that.

“Get out of here before my meeting,” Shirogane says when Keith turns to face him.

“Yes, sir.” It’s a feeble, rolling response, and it takes everything in Keith to force it out.

“And remember.” Shirogane grabs him by the chin and holds tight. “Whenever I want. Wherever I want you. You be ready to take me, and only me, and I will make it worth your while. Got it?”

Keith has definitely got it.

***

“Can I touch you?”

Keith thinks about it. He’s laying face down in their bed with the softest blanket they own draped over his freshly clean, naked body to ward off the cool air. He shivers every now and then, not with cold but with exhaustion, tired but still wired.

Keith shakes his head.

“Alright, baby.”

“Sit by me,” Keith says. His throat stings while getting the words out, but it’s worth it for Shiro’s quiet assent. The sound of a glass settling on the end table makes Keith start, but Shiro soothes him by sitting on the edge of the bed and then swinging his legs over so that he’s right next to Keith. Not touching or pushing. It makes Keith feel confident enough to reach a hand out from under his blanket and curl a hand over Shiro’s thigh, just to ground himself.

Hesitant and slow, Shiro’s fingers ghost over the back of Keith’s hand. When Keith doesn’t retreat, Shiro rests his touch so lightly on Keith’s hand, and it isn’t suffocating. It’s sweet and soft and Keith drowns in it, his brain sinking back down to Earth.

“‘M okay,” Keith murmurs.

“I know.”

Keith closes his eyes and turns his body, rolling close enough to Shiro that he can press his forehead against Shiro’s thigh. He presses a kiss to the fabric of Shiro’s sweatpants, probably too light for Shiro to really feel.

Shiro says, “I trust you. I’m _proud_ of you.”

Squeezing his eyes shut tight, Keith tells himself it’s okay to cry right now if he wants to. He could do hitched, barely there breaths or loud, screaming sobs, and Shiro would still touch his hand just as gently. He would still rub Keith’s entire body down with coconut oil later, when he can stand the touch, stinking their whole apartment up like tropical drinks and ruining the sheets with oil spots. A kiss on Keith’s forehead right before bed.

But Keith doesn’t want to cry. He’s wrung out and exhausted but it’s not the bodily kind that makes him need to get it out.

"I'm hungry," Keith whispers. He will say, out of everything, it's his hurt throat that bothers him the most.

Shiro's finger taps once on the back of Keith's hand, considering. "We have leftovers," he says, thoughtful. "Curry, I think. Or an omelet?"

Keith considers his options. He hasn't eaten since breakfast this morning, too nervously excited for their scene to want a lunch. It felt more in character to skip a meal, too, since Keith was playing at a quickie over his break.

It was so much more than a quickie.

Keith scratches his nails lightly over Shiro's thigh, petting him like a cat. "Rice," he says. It's not the quickest option and the hitch in Shiro's breath makes it plain that he wants to point that out, but Keith wants his comfort food and Shiro knows just how to make it.

Shiro withdraws from the bed slowly, offering over and over to help get Keith out to the kitchen if he needs to stay close, into the bath if he needs to relax, anything. But Keith doesn't want that—he likes it fine right here in the bed where the pillows smell like the shampoo they share. He's the real cat, lazing and dozing while Shiro clatters around in the kitchen. Something falls, a muffled clatter, and Keith's mouth splits into his own private grin.

That's his husband, for sure.

Keith yawns and presses his face into the blanket. He loves this. Obviously their home and bed and Shiro taking care of him, but also . . . also the way his body aches. His ass especially aches in the way that feels like bruises, like the deep dragging pain that sits underneath Keith's skin and comforts him. Shiro's pain—the pain belonging to Shiro. Shiro's Keith.

He can’t explain why he likes their games, or why the more brutal the better. It leaves him centered in a different way than flying can, more settled into his limbs and calmer compared to the adrenaline rush.

It’s who he is. Shiro is the only one he trusts enough to see like this.

Shiro returns after probably half an hour, two steaming bowls in hand. Keith sits up, suddenly more ravenous than ever before, and he lets the blanket pool in his lap while he holds his hands out to Shiro.

"Chopsticks or spoon?" Shiro asks as he places the bowl in Keith's still tired hands.

"Spoon," he says. Shiro hands it right over, the softest smile on his face.

Keith digs in immediately with a quick _thank you._ This dish is his favorite because it’s just white rice topped with scrambled eggs and maybe whatever else is laying around, if it seems like he should need a vegetable. Today it's the red peppers Keith remembers dicing for dinner two nights ago. Keith's bowl is drenched in soy sauce to bump him up to his preferred level of salty flavor. Krolia says that it's biologically true that Galra diets require more salt than human ones; Keith doesn't know if that's true or if a particular love of salt runs in the family and she says that to make them both feel better.

It doesn't stop Keith from moaning with delight at the first hot bite.

They eat in silence. All of Keith's attention is focused on the food in his hands, and even though he tries to pace himself to prevent stomach cramps later down the road, there's only so much he can do to fight his most primal instincts.

Keith finishes before Shiro and swings his legs out of bed with slow, careful movements. He makes his way around the bed and kisses Shiro softly on the cheek, just at the place where the scar across his nose fades into unmarked skin. Then it’s onto the kitchen naked and uncaring, and Shiro doesn’t follow him because he knows Keith would ask for help if he needed it. Keith washes the bowl and spoon in the sink with methodical precision and then sets them in the drying rack. Routine is good, calming, even, and each scrub of the dish sponge soaks up the last bits of lingering tension.

It’s too early in the day for bedtime and Keith hates sleeping right after a meal anyway. He tucks himself into the blanket on the couch, his legs crossed underneath him. Savoring the ache in his ass, Keith picks up the remote to the soundtrack of Shiro making his own way into the kitchen and turning the sink on.

He presses the power button on the remote. It boots up to a documentary about the creatures in Earth’s oceans, a well preserved coral reef glittering with the scales of the fish who dart around it.

Keith smiles to himself and settles in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm literally in the middle of finals right now and i'm not even mad that this is what i'm doing with my life instead. thanks for reading!!! thoughts and keysmashes appreciated dlskfjsfdlj :D
> 
> @[disloyalpunk](twitter.com/disloyalpunk) on twitter!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shirogane lifts an eyebrow. “Are you regularly scheduled to work at 2300?”
> 
> Keith’s fingers flex on the datapad and he decisively turns it off, sliding it into the inside pocket of his uniform jacket. “I just got the electrical report back from engineering,” he musters. “They needed someone to check the lighting and I was recommended.”
> 
> “Really.” Shirogane stalks—that’s the only way Keith can describe the way he moves—closer. Keith takes an instinctive step back. “That’s a little strange, for a promotion like yours. Are you sure you’re attending to your duties properly, Lieutenant Commander?”

"Officer."

The word startles Keith into almost dropping the datapad in his hands. It's late at night and dark in this hallway, and so when Keith turns to see the figure at the other end of the hall, an imposing shadow instead of a man greets him.

He knows those shoulders.

"Admiral Shirogane, sir," he says. His voice does something strange with the words.

The Admiral's boots are loud on the floor as he walks toward Keith, the single emergency light over Keith illuminating his face more with every step. "What are you doing here at this hour?"

"Uh, I was just running scans for the construction," Keith says. He gestures with the datapad, a nervous tic. “No one else is supposed to be . . . down here.” As he says it, Keith realizes it’s a stupid statement—what right does he have to tell an admiral where they can and can’t be after hours? The only reason Keith can even get into this wing is because he’s overseeing part of the work; Shirogane can get into any part of the Garrison he wants.

No rebuke comes, despite Keith’s expectations. Instead, the Admiral asks, "Is your commander overworking you already?"

Maybe, but Keith doesn't want to admit that. 

“Never, sir.”

An eyebrow lifts. “Then are you regularly scheduled to work at 2300?”

Keith’s fingers flex on the datapad and he decisively turns it off, sliding it into the inside pocket of his uniform jacket. “I just got the electrical report back from engineering,” he musters. “They needed someone to check the lighting and I was recommended.”

“Really.” Shirogane stalks—that’s the only way Keith can describe the way he moves—closer and cocks his head with overplayed curiosity. Keith takes an instinctive step back. “That’s a little strange, for a promotion like yours. Are you sure you’re attending to your duties properly, Lieutenant Commander?”

Keith swallows and tries not to trip over his feet. Shirogane has him cornered in a wide open hallway. “As best I can, sir. But I’ll—I’ll get the hang of it.”

The stutter comes when Shirogane presses a hand to Keith’s chest and pushes him fast against the wall. “Yes,” the Admiral says delicately. “You’re proven yourself to be quite a quick learner. You’re attentive to detail. Intelligent. The Garrison likes to see that in their Captains, you know.”

Keith’s gaze snaps from its fixed point in the far off distance back to Shirogane’s face. There’s nothing but dark joy there, a delight for a man who knows full well why Keith is paying such close attention to his words.

“The only question,” Shirogane says, choosing each word as if language is a box of delicate chocolates, “is your obedience.”

Shirogane crowds closer and Keith’s breath hitches in his chest. It’s happening.

“I—I am, sir. Obedient, I mean.”

“We’ll see about that.” Shirogane traces one finger across the line of Keith’s jaw and then down the center of his throat. His short nail scrapes faintly at Keith’s skin and forces him to hold back a shiver—either out of fear or just a mechanical response, he doesn’t know. “Get on your knees.”

Oh, fuck. “Sir,” Keith says, pleading. He glances around them, down either side of the hallway. It’s as empty as it should be and Keith can’t imagine why anyone else would be here this late, but—but still there could be. Keith isn’t alone in managing this project. Anyone could turn up; someone he works with could walk around that corner and see Keith whimpering on his knees while Shirogane lords over him.

“What did I fucking say?” Shirogane slaps him without further preamble, and Keith’s head spins to the left on impact. “Get on your knees, boy, I won’t tell you again.”

“We’re in public, sir, please—”

It’s a slow, halting process. Keith looks at Shirogane again, cheek smarting, begging with his eyes for him to take it back, but Shirogane is impassive. No, that’s not true—he’s  _ annoyed.  _ Annoyed that Keith isn’t following his orders without question, irritated that Keith is still standing and daring to look him in the eye.

Annoyed that Keith just promised him obedience and has already seen fit to disobey.

Keith sinks to his knees.

Shirogane grabs Keith’s chin and holds his head at a painfully sharp angle upward. “That’s it,” he says, voice like velvet. “You know I don’t tolerate disobedience. Especially not after everything I’ve given you.”

“I—thank you, sir,” Keith says, shivering at Shirogane’s words.

The Admiral hums and pushes his thumb against Keith's bottom lip, trying the plushness of it, considering. He sighs with satisfaction at whatever he finds there. "Such a beautiful mouth,” he whispers. “A beautiful, desperate mouth. Would you take me in this hallway?”

Keith doesn’t know how to answer that and he takes long enough to think about it that Shirogane hits his cheek again out of impatience, the sound of skin on skin too loud for Keith’s comfort. Every squeak of boots, every hushed sigh, all of it is too much for the space it takes place in, and Keith can’t know they won’t be discovered, even at this empty end of the base. Shirogane could ensure their privacy, maybe, but he’s the kind of asshole who would leave the most damning door unlocked behind him. In the right circumstances, he’d probably love for someone to see how easily Keith gets on his knees for him. 

Shirogane’s metal fingers thread tightly through Keith’s hair and pull him forward, dragging his face against the Admiral’s clothed, half-hard cock. It’s instinctive for Keith to push forward and press his cheek harder against it. His mouth waters against his will.

“What do you say when you want something?”

The question startles Keith—not just the suddenness, but also that he can’t remember ever being allowed to want something for himself in Shirogane’s presence. It’s never about Keith’s pleasure, only about how much of it can be siphoned out of his body. He doesn’t  _ want  _ to want anything here.

Shirogane’s is impassive. “Well?”

“Please let me leave, sir,” Keith whispers.

That gets him a cruel, heavy laugh. “That’s not an option, officer. Unless you want to end our whole arrangement.” The  _ and your career _ remains unstated, but Keith hears it all the same.

Keith pauses long it enough to turn the problem over in his head. His options: beg to suck Admiral Shirogane’s cock in an open hallway or lose everything he's worked so hard for. He can act like the whore Shirogane wants hanging off his dick or lose his job.

The choice, in the end, isn’t much of a choice at all.

“Sir,” he says, the word tearing out of him, “may I—may I please suck your cock?”

Shirogane snorts, the twist of a smile at the corner of his mouth. It doesn’t feel pleasant at all. “That’s awfully nasty of you, officer. Don’t you know we’re in public?” 

“I . . . .” Keith doesn’t know what to say to that. He knows—god, of course he knows, but is that meant to be a serious question?

But Shirogane just scoffs to himself, an unexpected little huff of breath that sets Keith on edge. He shakes his head twice and Keith prepares to be hit, but it never comes. Instead, Shirogane’s hands fall to his belt, shoving Keith’s face out of the way so he can slowly undo it. Every clink of metal echoes damnably loud and it gets Keith hot.

He’s an embarrassment. Keith doesn’t have the right to complain about being backed into a corner when his dick hardens at the sound of Shirogane getting his own out.

A hand catches Keith’s cheek, shockingly soft. Keith starts as if it was a slap.

“You look nervous, officer.” The Admiral’s thumb presses down on Keith’s bottom lip. “You don’t need to be.”

Keith isn’t so sure about that, though, especially as the thumb touching his lips becomes two fingers pushing into his mouth, like a test, just to see what Keith would put up with. He takes it just like he does everything—with grit and determination, sucking at the Admiral’s fingers with a defiant look in his eyes. This won’t defeat him, not this easily. Keith watches Shirogane’s eyes grow darker, the metal fingers of his free hand pulling his zipper down. 

He pulls his cock out without preamble, stroking it slowly while he focuses on his fingers in Keith’s mouth. Two become three, another attempt at humiliation, and still Keith takes it. He reassures himself that Keith isn’t the one with his dick out in the middle of Garrison property.

Never mind that he  _ is _ the one with his head tipped back like he’s begging for it.

Shirogane’s cock is just as long and thick as Keith remembers, imposing in its size just out of Keith’s reach. The Admiral pulls his fingers from Keith’s mouth and uses them to slick his cock up.

“Open up,” Shirogane orders. “Right where anyone could see you.” It’s a threat and a promise.

Keith closes his eyes as he leans forward. Shirogane holds his cock steady so Keith can wrap his lips around the head and press his tongue into it, a perverse form of a kiss.

Already, Keith knows this isn’t what Shirogane likes. He doesn’t come to Keith for a half-assed attempt at making it work. Keith has to make himself serviceable and desireable, otherwise he’s as good as useless, so he opens his mouth wide and sinks down slowly. Shirogane huffs, a rough sigh from his nose, and as Keith moves, he meets resistance in the form of metal fingers holding tight to his hair.

Shirogane drags him off his cock, leaving Keith gasping.

“I don’t remember giving you permission to start,” the Admiral snaps. He shakes Keith once, as if to strike sense into him. “It’s just sad that it only takes you two days to forget how this works.”

It’s a good point. Keith worries he’ll start to look eager if he keeps this up, like this is something he looks forward to instead of a necessary evil that comes with the job.

“Tell me, boy, do you like having my cock in your mouth?”

The question forces honesty out of Keith—he isn’t allowed to say no, that’s not what Shirogane wants and Keith would hate to find out what the punishment would be for that. But unfortunately, the answer Shirogane  _ does _ want happens to be the one that’s closest to the truth and the heart of Keith’s dilemma. Three sexual encounters into whatever their weird officer/superior relationship should be called and Keith knows exactly one thing for sure about himself. He  _ loves _ having Shirogane’s cock in his mouth, his ass, between his thighs—anywhere the Admiral deigns to use Keith’s body. Keith can hardly even admit it to himself, though, and saying any of that out loud might end him.

He offers a slow, jerky nod.

Shirogane slaps the wet head of his cock against Keith’s cheek. Keith likes that, too, and he has to close his eyes to quell the rising tide of desire inside him. “What do you like about it?”

Keith inhales sharply. “I can’t—”

“You can and you will. Explain to me, officer, why I should offer you the privilege of sucking my dick.” Shirogane strokes himself slowly, a tease just out of Keith’s reach. “You’re the one begging for it on your knees like a slut. Give me a good reason.”

Keith swallows. He doesn't have anything to offer, not really, but he has to say something. "I'm good at it," he whispers. Every word catches in his throat.

Even Keith knows that it's a pathetic reason. He deserves the slap Shirogane cracks down on his cheek, even though it smarts fiercely. Shirogane grabs his hair with the hand that was just on his dick and wrenches his head back around. "You think you're the only officer in this damn place that's good at sucking cock?" he hisses, practically spitting the words into Keith's face. "You're that arrogant?"

Keith tries to shake his head but the Admiral holds him fast. "No," he says in a panic, "no, sir, but I'm—I'm the only one who can take it all."

It's a shot in the dark but it doesn't anger Shirogane. "Are you," he says. His grip tightens on Keith and he traces Keith's lips with the head of his cock, the most humiliating tease. "You think you're the best at the Garrison, then?"

"I—"

Keith doesn't know how to answer that. He shouldn’t lie.

"I know the real reason you want me to let you suck my dick," Shirogane growls before Keith can answer. "It's not because you're good at it or because you don't know how to stop drooling the second I put you on your knees. It’s because you're just a  _ slut." _

"Sir," Keith breathes.

"Fucking take it, then."

Shirogane shoves his cock in Keith's mouth and grabs the back of Keith’s head to hold him all in one move, pressing deep so fast that Keith chokes, his eyes watering from the force. He grabs Shirogane's thighs to ground himself, needing something to hold onto so the whole world doesn't fall away underneath him, and the Admiral forces his cock in until Keith can't breathe.

It's over as soon as it started. Shirogane pulls back and slaps Keith, laughing meanly at him as Keith gasps and wipes away the spit trailing down his chin. He's in uniform and nowhere near his quarters; he can't afford to make a mess.

"Come on, boy, I thought you told me you can take it," the Admiral says. He strokes his cock slowly right in front of Keith's face, the sight nothing but threatening this close. Keith shudders but his gaze is fixed on it; his throat is raw but all he can think about is Shirogane pushing back inside his mouth. Keith is prepared this time: he'll take all of it and say thank you, open wide so easily that Shirogane won't know what hit him.

But then Keith chokes again. It's something about the angle, maybe, or just the fact that Shirogane is trying to fuck his face without regard for Keith's comfort or the limits of his body. He makes the mistake of pushing himself back from the Admiral—or pushing the Admiral away from him—and Shirogane drags his cock over Keith's face for the trouble, rubbing his balls against Keith's mouth and ordering him to open his mouth. Keith obeys even though he can't breathe, and when Shirogane is satisfied he fucks back inside Keith's mouth. This time he doesn't dive deep, giving Keith a chance to use his tongue and lips to make it good. No matter what Shirogane does to him, Keith still doesn't want to make him angry by giving anything less than his best.

"This is nice, but I don't think I want your mouth after all," Shirogane muses above him. His cock hits the back of Keith's throat and it takes  _ everything _ to keep himself from choking. "Get up, boy. On your fucking feet."

Shirogane's cock leaves his mouth with a wet noise that Keith will probably never forget. The order to stand brings his entire body back into consciousness—the ache in his knees, the hard floor cold beneath them, and the fact that Keith is kneeling in a random hallway in the Garrison, probably one with security cameras trained on them right now.

Keith closes his eyes and climbs to his feet.

It's a slow, shaking process. Shirogane doesn't help at all, leaving it all up to Keith to handle on his own.

He looks Shirogane in the eye. Keith has to tip his chin up to get there.

"You're filthy," Shirogane mutters. It's true—there's spit and god knows what else all over Keith's face, and in a moment of rebelliousness, Keith wants nothing more than to demand,  _ And whose fault is that? _

Shirogane's, of course. But Keith can never tell him that.

Metal fingers grab his chin and hold him in place for a nasty, open-mouthed kiss that steals the very last of Keith's breath from his lungs. Shirogane's tongue takes him like Keith is a treasure to plunder, nothing more than riches and pleasure found in using his body.

"You're my favorite slut," Shirogane whispers against his mouth. It almost feels like vulnerability.

Keith's hands clutch the lapels of the Admiral's coat, probably wrinkling the fabric from the force, but Shirogane doesn't stop him. He's moved onto Keith's neck, biting at the tender skin of his throat hard enough to make it clear that he doesn't care what marks Keith walks away from this encounter with. Keith breathes out a shaky moan, shocked with himself for feeling any sort of pleasure at all in this moment. But his neck is sensitive, the thin skin hardwired to send arousal rocketing through his body.

Whatever. It's not like his dick wasn't already hard.

Shirogane leaves one last sucking kiss at the line of Keith's collar, pulling back to look at him with dark, burning eyes. Keith doesn't know what to make of what just happened—it feels more wrong than anything else they've done, but Shirogane is unrepentant.

"I'm going to fuck you," the Admiral murmurs, "right here, where anyone can see you. And you're going to fucking like it."

Keith's groan is cut off by Shirogane spinning him around with a hand on his shoulder, forcing Keith face-first into the wall. Hands yank his belt open and drag his pants down to his knees. Cool air wafts over his newly bared skin.

"Want you to be loud for me," Shirogane bites out. His words land in the back of Keith's hair. "Tell the whole Garrison how much you like it when I make you take my dick, yeah? Not because you’re putting on a show or because you think it’s what I want to hear. It’s just how you are. You like it when I treat you like this and use you.” He bites the back of Keith’s neck hard enough that Keith doesn’t know if his groan is from pain or pleasure. “Filthy slut."

The cut of his tone makes Keith spread his legs further apart on instinct, moaning deep in his throat when he remembers he’s trapped by the pants around his legs. Shirogane snorts at him.

He slaps Keith's ass, almost light enough to be friendly. Keith shudders with arousal from the impact, hardly able to believe himself for how he's acting, but the proof is as clear as day when Shirogane's metal hand drops to stroke Keith's hard cock with curiosity. He laughs at what he finds there—Keith's dick drooling, already so desperate to come from the barest touch. He'd act embarrassed, but honestly he can't spare the energy.

Two fingers from Shirogane's other hand press against his ass, pushing up against his hole. Keith shudders and moans—he's so sensitive. He wants this so much and it's awful.

Shirogane stills suddenly. The air turns cold around them.

"What the fuck is this?" he asks, his voice slow and deadly. It chills Keith to the bone.

"S-sir?" he asks.

"I told you to be fucking  _ ready for me,"  _ Shirogane snarls. He pulls his hands off Keith's body and whirls Keith around again, grabbing him by the neck with his metal hand and slamming him up against the wall. "Did you fucking forget the one order I gave you?"

Keith isn't choking. But it's really hard to breathe like this, with Shirogane's hand wrapped just tight enough around him for the danger to feel real. "No," he protests, "no, I didn't—I didn't forget, I swear, I thought—"

"You  _ thought?" _ Shirogane slaps him so hard that Keith shouts. "I definitely didn't fucking give you permission to think, officer, not about this."

Keith's whole body shakes and his hands pull weakly at the fingers around his neck. He can't fight the steely grip of alien metal, though, and Shirogane's face is furious as he looks down at Keith.

"I was very clear about my expectations," Shirogane snaps. He shoves three fingers of his left hand in Keith's mouth, holding him by the chin like that so Keith can't even talk back to him. "Next time, I said, you should be ready for me to fuck you, remember? My time is too fucking valuable to waste on babying you through getting your hole ready."

Keith sobs and shakes his head—he heard that, he  _ knows, _ but Shirogane never said anything about surprise visits while Keith is just doing his job. The darkened corridor of the wing under construction was supposed to be safe from this surprise—Shirogane was never meant to be here.

But just because it isn't fair doesn't mean Shirogane cares about that. He has too much power over Keith to give a single fuck about why Keith didn't finger himself open this morning for him. The Admiral has no one to answer to.

"What do you have to say for yourself?" Shirogane pulls his fingers out of Keith's mouth, and he starts babbling from the instant he's free.

"I'm sorry, sorry, fuck," Keith spits out, every breath a shudder that shakes his whole body. "Sir, I'm sorry, I didn't—" He has the presence of mind to cut himself off before he says something as stupid as  _ I didn't mean to ignore you. _ This isn't Keith's show. He's just a pawn.

"I'm going to make you fucking sorry," Shirogane snaps. Finally, he drops the hand around Keith's throat and Keith hauls in a gasp of a breath. He clutches his own neck as the first tear falls from the corner of his eye. Shirogane thumbs it up and presses it into his mouth, salt dragging over his tongue. “Cry about it all you want, boy. You’re still going to get what you deserve.”

“Sir, I’m sorry,” Keith rasps. 

Shirogane tilts his head. “Do you think that matters?” he asks. “Tell me, seriously. Do you think I care that you’re sorry?”

The truth is obvious. “No,” Keith says. The weight of it fills him with shame.

“That’s the first smart thing you’ve said to me today.” Shirogane steps back. Despite his words, he doesn’t look the least bit approving. “Pull your pants back up, I don’t want to see that. I thought you had earned the right to come today, but that’s not fucking happening now.”

Keith’s hands shake as he follows orders. Shirogane watches him with a cold gaze, utterly impassive except for the fact that he’s still hard. 

“Down, boy.”

So Keith goes, following the hand that pushes his shoulder, landing on his knees again on the hard floor. Shirogane touches his cheek in a way that would be gentle, trailing over the few tear streaks on his skin, if not for the way the touch is followed by a slap.

Keith probably should have expected that.

He doesn’t let Keith touch him, tells him to put his hands behind his back. It’s reminiscent of their first night together.

“Keep your eyes open, hands behind your back. Open your mouth,” the Admiral commands. “I’d fuck your mouth but I know you get off on that, don’t you?”

Keith is silent.

Shirogane slaps him with his cock. “Don’t you?” he asks again, voice threaded with danger.

“Y-yes, sir,” Keith whispers. Getting hit in the cheek by a man’s dick is the most debasing thing that has ever happened to him and he wants to linger in that feeling. It’s so wrong that it feels  _ right.  _ “It’s really—I love when you fuck my mouth.”

“That’s more like it.” There’s a rude grin on the Admiral’s face now, proud and far too arrogant. “Can’t let you have—ah, have fun with this, officer.”

Shirogane touches himself just out of Keith’s reach, his harsh breathing loud in the quiet hallway. His hand moves fast even as he makes Keith wait, makes him sit there open and silent and ready to be marked and owned. It isn’t over quickly at all, and Keith has to linger long enough to realize that even now, even like this, his cock is throbbing in his pants. He’s so hard and it’s near impossible to keep his hands held fast behind his back when he wants nothing more than to sneak a hand down his waistband and make himself come just like Shirogane is just above him. The need almost becomes overwhelming, but Keith will be good. He will not give in, no matter how much he wants to.

He has to obey. He disobeyed, and now he deserves this punishment.

The Admiral comes hard and sudden, marking Keith’s face and mouth as his. It happens quicker than he expected, and he wonders—maybe Shirogane is more affected by this than he’s willing to let on. Maybe he just gets off on the power, or maybe there’s something special about this.

Keith can’t help but whimper quietly in response as Shirogane comes, his eyes slipping shut. Shirogane’s moan is edged with a growl and he grabs Keith’s hair again to hold him at the angle he wants.

“Fuck,” the Admiral bites out under his breath. The word sends a shiver down Keith’s spine.

Shirogane presses the head of his cock against Keith’s cheek, smearing the mess around as he works through the rest of his orgasm in wordless pleasure. His dick taps against Keith’s skin a few more times, not quite slapping him but Keith makes the comparison anyway. Oh, he wants that utter degradation. 

“Clean this off,” Shirogane orders, out of breath and deep. He pushes his cock back in Keith’s mouth, fucking him liesurely enough that Keith can actually take it. “But don’t let that mess on your face touch my pants.”

Keith wishes the taste of Shirogane’s cock wasn’t so addictive, but by now, it just reminds him of good, awful things.

“Fucking—nasty boy, look at that.” Shirogane tightens his grip in Keith’s hair and drags him off. “Such a slut for my dick, any way you can get it. Aren’t you?”

Keith really is filthy. He nods, licking his lips and gasping for breath. 

With a disgusted scoff, Shirogane pushes Keith away, letting him fall back against the wall. Keith looks up at him, his vision blurry with arousal. There’s a soft, haloed light effect around Shirogane’s head that Keith finds oddly comforting to look at.

Why does this turn him on so much?

Something nudges at Keith’s dick, startling him. It’s Shirogane’s boot, pressing down just enough to tease at the ache of friction that Keith so desperately wants. He struggles not to roll his hips into the touch. What would that make him, trying to get off just on his superior officer stepping on his clothed dick? He already came all over Keith’s face and humiliated him—does he need to add insult to injury too?

But Shirogane laughs at him and steps back. He does his pants back up with a smirk on his lips, so mesmerizing that Keith can’t quite think in full sentences.

“Tomorrow,” Shirogane says. It’s a warning as much as a plan.

Then he turns on his heel and walks away.

***

When Keith stops shaking in the privacy of their quarters and lets him come close, Shiro gently washes the come off Keith’s face in the shower.

They have this rule about baths. Baths are wonderful—being married, high ranking officers means that they have a huge free-standing tub in their bathroom, a luxury at the Garrison. But while Keith loves his baths both alone and with Shiro, he doesn’t want to be babied through a lavender scented, epsom salt bath every time Shiro gets a little rough with him.

He especially doesn’t want it when he’s falling from the haze of subspace back to Earth.

Hot water all around him is too much, in times like this. It’s waves of unending sensation that don’t feel calming at all, just oppressive and humid and smothering. Showers are better, comparatively, but if it were up to Keith, he would forgo them entirely out of exhaustion and oversensitivity. This, then, is one of those times that Shiro has to step in and remind Keith that showering before bed is Keith’s routine. Keith doesn’t  _ want _ to fall asleep with his skin still soaked in the sweat of the day and their exertion, come drying out his face, making the next morning difficult to face. Sometimes taking care of himself means doing things he isn’t enthused about. 

Shiro keeps the water temperature lukewarm and uses his hands instead of a rough sponge to lather the body wash over Keith’s skin. He’s quick and quiet, having tied Keith’s hair out of the way before nudging him under the water. 

Shiro knows how to take care of him, even when Keith doesn’t feel like talking. Shiro can read Keith like an open book, knows when to push and when to drop back, when he’s truly needed to make sure that Keith stays healthy and safe, even if it means ignoring Keith’s protests about the merits of brushing his teeth while still standing in the shower. 

Shiro is very good at taking care of Keith when Keith can’t think to take care of himself.

The water shuts off. 

“I love you,” Shiro whispers into the back of Keith’s neck.

They skip drying off and climb into bed with water still dripping down their skin. Keith doesn’t want a coarse towel scratching his skin; he just wants to curl his body against Shiro’s, to press so close they have to breathe in sync in order to have room for it, to twine himself around Shiro so he can feel the hair on his legs pull and slide against the hair on Shiro’s.

Shiro makes him drink a glass of water first. He still holds Keith tight, never letting him go, but he’s unyielding when he knows he’s making the right choice.

The lights flicker off when Shiro commands them to, plunging them into the dark, secret night.

Keith breathes.

In.

Out.

He wriggles down in Shiro’s hold until he can shove his face into Shiro’s chest. He bites the skin there and then kisses it, just to feel the beat of life thrumming through Shiro’s body.

A hand cups the back of his head, cradling him into oblivion.

***

Keith doesn’t remember falling asleep.

He does remember the morning alarm, though, because it goes off far too early. Shiro must have forgotten to turn it off last night—they always sleep in an extra hour or two on days off—but that’s alright. Keith got his eight or so hours and he doesn’t mind lingering in bed, curtains pulled tight against the streaks of dawn threatening their windows. 

His body aches but only in the good way right now, still hazy with sleep. Keith stretches out his calves one by one under the covers, toes bumping Shiro’s legs. He slides one foot up Shiro’s calf with a soft sigh and tucks his toes under Shiro’s knee, right where heat radiates.

"I didn't think I would like it this much," Keith whispers. Shiro is flat on his back and Keith is curled into a C-shape by his side, forehead just touching Shiro’s shoulder. Their hands tangle together on Shiro’s stomach.

Shiro's voice rumbles deep in his chest, thick with sleep. Keith can feel the vibration of it. "Yeah?" His hand tightens its hold on Keith for a brief moment, an acknowledgement.

Keith hums in agreement, offering no more. The scene was Shiro's idea originally—they've been shameless their whole relationship in their use of various uniforms and roles, but they've never gone quite this deep before. Never done something so serious and exhausting. It’s been building a long time, Keith thinks, the ability and willingness to do this; the trust and comfort required, the vulnerability, the daring and restraint in equal measure. It doesn’t come easy, any of it. 

He bites his lip, considering his next sentence. He could keep it to himself, let Shiro wake up gradually with Keith hot on his trail, and give the day a chance to start before they have the serious conversations they always do. 

But in the interest of full honesty, Keith doesn’t want to wait. He doesn’t want to keep anything back.

“I’m scared I like it  _ too _ much,” Keith says in a rush. 

The sentiment sounds more vulnerable out in the open air than it ever did in his own head.

Shiro makes a little noise that sounds so loud in the dark. It’s shocked and curious, but Keith doesn’t know what more he could say. 

Slowly, Shiro shifts, turning onto his side so he can tug Keith gently into a loose hug, letting go of Keith’s hand so he can wrap the arm around his back. His skin is warm and soft and Keith hides his face in it, breathing in that particular warm human scent. It smells a little bit like their shared body wash but mostly like home.

“I think about that too,” Shiro whispers into his hair.

The admission sends Keith spiralling.

“I love you so much,” Shiro says. His hand balls into a fist behind Keith, pulling him in tighter against Shiro’s body. “So, so much, baby, more than I could ever tell you.”

Keith squeezes his eyes hard against the tears that threaten suddenly to choke him. “I know the feeling,” he mutters.

Shiro’s lips press a hard kiss to the top of Keith’s head. “You’re still up for tonight?”

Shiro’s question comes open-ended, not doubtful of Keith’s ability to think for himself. Keith considers it deeply, imagines himself following through on the promise of  _ tomorrow _ that Shiro made for him last night. 

He wants it. He wants it so, so badly.

“Yes,” Keith answers decisively. “Are you?”

“I think so,” Shiro muses. Keith pushes further into his hold. “Talk about it more over breakfast?”

“Mm. Okay.” Keith’s mind switches track easily—he’s pretty sure they have waffle mix somewhere.

He makes to roll over, but Shiro stops him, kissing his forehead. “Breakfast in bed for you, baby. I know how the waffle iron works.”

“No, you don’t,” Keith says, his chest warming through with love. Shiro checks every single one of his boxes and then a few more that Keith never knew existed until they finally fell into each other’s arms. The first time they had this argument about the waffle iron was the morning after their wedding night, and Keith is going to have it until the day he dies.

“Sure,” Shiro says, snorting at himself. “If the first waffle doesn’t work, you just make pancakes instead.”

“With chocolate chips,” Keith demands.

_ “Blueberries.” _

“Well,” Keith says, his heart lighter than the sun, “now you have to give me both.”

The look on Shiro’s face is heartbreaking and life-affirming in equal measure. He strokes the knuckles of his left hand gently down Keith’s cheek and smiles so softly. His eyes take in Keith’s face like he’s going to be tested on its features. “Sweetheart, you can have anything you want.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always find me @[disloyalpunk](https://twitter.com/disloyalpunk)!
> 
> UPDATE aug. 6 2019: edited version posted! most changes are just grammar fixes & changes in tone.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this (massively long) chapter is dedicated to blue & audrey for babying me through every sentence of this and telling me to suck it up, get over myself, and just write the nasty words instead of glossing over them out of embarrassment.
> 
> i have done my very best to tag all of the kinks in this fic! it's very kinky and i encourage everyone to read them, unless i guess you're very brave and like to be surprised. i have one potential warning related to choking/breathplay - it does _not_ actually occur in the fic, but i have put details in the end notes of this fic for anyone who is squicked out by those things.

Keith’s day starts with a late morning spent in bed with his husband and more pancakes than the two of them can possibly eat. There are serious conversations to be had, but blueberries and chocolate chips take precedence. When the food is gone, Keith holds Shiro’s cheek in his palm and kisses the taste of maple syrup off his lips.

“Gross,” Shiro mumbles into his mouth. His hands find Keith’s waist and pull him closer, into Shiro’s lap. “You didn’t—didn’t brush your teeth.”

“Like you care,” Keith says. He drags his teeth over Shiro’s bottom lip and the kiss turns heated in a split second as Keith presses forward. His hands fall to the place where Shiro’s neck joins his shoulders, squeezing his muscles tight as Keith kisses him deep and open-mouthed. His body aches in all the best places, but Shiro stroking up and down his back works the tension out of his stiff body and leaves him like putty draped over Shiro’s thighs.

It’s exactly where Keith likes to be.

He whines into Shiro’s mouth and nudges his hips down, trying to find friction to satisfy the fire that’s been burning inside him since last night. But Shiro snorts gently into the kiss and grabs Keith by the hips to deny him. “Later, Lieutenant Commander,” he promises in a low, breathy voice. Keith squirms but doesn’t back down, still trying to fight against Shiro’s hold. Shiro raises an eyebrow at Keith in amusement, grip unyielding.

“You don’t get to call me that out of scene,” Keith complains, pecking Shiro on the lips again because he can’t resist him, not even for a moment. Shiro only lets the kiss ghost over his lips for a second, though, tipping his head back and refusing to take the reprimand.

“Maybe I’d have a different title to call you if you let the Garrison promote you,” he says, an obnoxious twist of a smirk at the corner of his mouth.

They’ve had this disagreement far too many times.

“I’m not taking any more stupid officers _exams,_ Shiro, I fly a robot lion.” Keith sits back and sniffs with disgust, sliding his hands down through the hair on Shiro’s chest to reach his strong abs. Shiro winks at him and flexes the muscles underneath Keith’s touch, and it makes Keith embarrassingly breathless when he says, “I don’t need a rank and title, hierarchy is stupid.”

Shiro’s smile softens. “It sure is,” he agrees, “but one day I’m gonna convince you it’s worth it to be Admiral and Admiral Shirogane.”

Before Keith can reply Shiro wraps his metal hand around the back of Keith’s head and pulls him in for a _filthy_ kiss, deep and wet and damn near inappropriate for their quiet morning. Keith moans into it and clings closer to his husband, welcoming the slide of Shiro’s hands on his skin.

It doesn’t go on for long enough, but no kiss ever could. Shiro breaks it with a loud gasp and leans their foreheads together. Keith’s eyes flutter open to meet his dark, heavy gaze and arousal swirls into a firestorm inside him, burning him up from his head to his toes.

“Promise you’re up for tonight?” Shiro rumbles.

Keith doesn’t even have to think about it. His sore body and throat are nothing compared to the promise and possibility Shiro offers him.

“Yes,” Keith rasps, sure as their wedding day. “Are you?”

Shiro’s mouth falls inevitably into a fond smile. “Yeah, baby. Yes.”

They can’t stay here all day. There are things to do, people to meet up with, and—some other stuff, whatever, Keith can’t think about it yet. He goes in for one more kiss and Shiro meets him. It’s soft and sweet and heady in a way that only certain kisses can be, and when it ends, Shiro wraps his arms around Keith’s back and buries his face in Keith’s neck. Keith holds him in return just as fiercely and breathes in the scent of Shiro’s hair, warm, and a little bit still like shampoo.

 

***

 

After Shiro leaves their quarters with a kiss on the top of Keith’s head, Keith finally manages to drag his body out of bed in the early afternoon. Standing, he isn’t in pain, but there’s a tired heaviness in his limbs that he can’t quite ignore. His throat aches, certainly, but he welcomes the aftermath of how rough Shiro gets with him when he’s really in his headspace. It’s just what Keith wants. No matter how much it hurts and aches in the moment, he loves the sensation of being well used the morning after—after a scene, after an accidental marathon of sex, anything. He loves it.

He wants _more._

Keith steps into the bathroom and looks at himself in the mirror. The left side of his collarbone is adorned by a fresh mark, still blooming red from Shiro’s possessive, greedy mouth. It mirrors a fading mark on the right side Shiro gave him several days ago, now just faded to yellow.

Shiro isn’t even here, and still the memory of his touch sends shivers up Keith’s spine.

The mirror highlights his marked collarbone, his red, swollen lips, his hard cock—his eyes, dark and frantic and wide like full moons with arousal. He wants nothing more than for Shiro to walk right in here and take Keith over the bathroom counter, in the shower, on the floor, and then drag him back to the bedroom so they can wreck every surface in that room too. He wants to be fucked so hard he unconsciously claws red marks from Shiro’s shoulders down to his ass, hands always pulling Shiro closer, begging for it harder, screaming for more, screaming—

Keith closes his eyes on half of a groan turned into a sob. He grips the edge of the counter until his fingers turn white from the pressure and he has to remind himself he’s inhuman enough that he could break the vanity if he isn’t careful.

It’s hunger. Keith is so, _so_ hungry for something only Admiral Shirogane can give him.

There’s something so forbidden and tempting in what he’s about to do.

He forces himself to take his time in the shower, soaping up his hair under the luxurious water pressure and basking in the heat of the steam clouding the bathroom around him. With a gentle sponge, Keith washes his body thoroughly. His shower after the scene was perfunctory because Keith was too tired to stand for much longer than it took to rinse the sweat and other fluids off his body. Now, he has to take care of himself first; he can get to the exciting stuff next.

Keith takes a deep breath to center himself. He’s all alone in his quarters, underneath the water beating down on him, and it takes so much effort to pick up body wash instead of lube.

He trails a soapy hand down to just above his cock.

It’s so hard to keep from touching himself. Keith is easy right now, ready to come as soon as he gets a hand around his dick, but not because he’s deprived. He thinks of Shiro, of their scene last night, of what he’s about to do to himself—he doesn’t need anything more.

Keith can’t control himself. He squeezes the fingers wrapped around the base of his cock and shudders.

That’s enough.

Even the water washing soap from his skin feels unrealistically pleasurable. He shouldn’t feel this much and so intently from only that, but Keith is gone on the thought of his Admiral wanting to own him, wanting to keep Keith in line with his heavy hands.

He reaches for the lube.

Keith’s hands shake as he opens it. He doesn’t pay attention and too much pours out, swirling into the drain. Maybe he’ll feel bad about that later, considering this is the nice, expensive lube, but now he’s grateful his fingers are covered in it. He closes his eyes and presses his forehead to the shower wall, grounding himself outside the reach of the water.

He pushes one finger inside himself eagerly. Just his own touch is electric—by the time Shirogane gets his hands back on Keith, there’s going to be nothing stopping Keith from losing it immediately.

He only has an idea of what’s going to happen to him tonight. The surprise is Keith’s favorite part—he knows the vaguest outline, has his safe words in play and a whole lot of trust in what they’re about to do. If he knew more than that, though, Keith would be waiting for every touch. He’d beg for the next thing before it’s time. They’ve tried it like that.

Nothing compares to the way Shiro takes care of him.

Keith shudders into his fingers, trying his best to keep it strictly utilitarian, but that’s asking the impossible. Keith wants Admiral Shirogane to fuck him so hard and long it’s impossible to keep walking. He wants bruises on his body and an ass spanked red, and if he’s gonna get that the way he wants, he needs to be ready to get fucked as soon as Shirogane sets eyes on him.

He loses himself in it for a moment. Twisting a third finger inside of himself, he can’t keep in a moan at the stretch of it—maybe Shirogane will put Keith on his knees again, but this time so he can hold him down with a hand between his shoulders and fuck him like a machine, hard and endless and unforgiving.

“Fuck,” Keith bites out, half muffled with his cheek pressed to the shower wall. It’s embarrassing to hear himself like this, and he stuffs his fist into his mouth.

It’s too good to stop. The angle might be all wrong, never satisfying like he wants it to be, but Keith tries his best. He knows the Admiral would love to see him like this, whining and squirming around and practically begging for dick. And Keith wouldn’t feel ashamed, only powerful and strong and wholly desperate in a way that he never could for another soul.

Keith whimpers and drags his fingers out.

He catches his breath against the wall. Water pours down over his legs and swirls into the drain in a steady hum, and Keith focuses on that instead of the blood rushing in his ears to calm himself down. His cock is so hard that not touching himself is a chore.

Fuck.

Fucking Admiral Shirogane.

Keith reaches for the shower knob with a shaking hand, and he flips it to cold.

 

***

 

Keith receives a message from the Admiral at 1900 hours. He’s in the mess hall when it comes, his dinner long finished and pushed to the side while he taps through equipment request forms on his datapad. A bolt of hot emotion flashes through him when the notification pops up on the side of his screen, and he glances frantically around him to make sure no one is paying attention.

He holds his breath as he opens the message.

And freezes.

_I heard about what you did today. Go to your quarters and stay there until I contact you._

That’s it. No context, no sign off, no indication of what it is Keith’s supposed to have done. His throat is heavy with the weight of his uncertainty, and his hands shake as he turns off the screen of his datapad.

Okay. He can do this.

Keith doesn’t know whether to sprint or drag his feet all the way back to his quarters. He’s been on the edge all day waiting to hear from Shirogane, but he never expected something so cryptic and confusing. Parsing a tone from such a short message is difficult, but if Keith had to guess, he’d say the Admiral sounds angry, and Keith doesn’t have a fucking clue what it is that he did.

In the end, he makes it from the mess to his quarters in record time. He scans his palm to open the door to his dark quarters and steps inside.

The door slides shut behind him and Keith leans back against it. He lets his bag drop to the ground and takes a moment to gather himself, calming his pounding heart with deep breathes. Whatever it is that Shirogane wants. Keith can handle it. There’s _nothing_ he can’t handle.

He steps away from the door, reaching for the light switch on the left wall. Keith will just wait Shirogane out in the comfort of his own home, on his _own_ turf, and he won’t let this get to him.

It’s going to be fine.

That’s when a hand seizes him by the throat and slams him back up against the door.

Keith gasps, the sound impossible to hide, and his hands fly to the metal fingers around his throat. He yelps as his body hits solid metal, heart stopping in his chest. It’s just like Shirogane to surprise him like this, leaping in at the moment Keith least expects it, which makes it all the more ridiculous that Keith didn’t figure out the ploy for what it was. Shirogane doesn’t choke Keith, but his grip is immovable; Keith doesn’t try to pry him off because he recognizes the futility of fighting Shirogane’s metal hand.

“How—how did you get in here?” Keith whispers. He doesn’t know if he feels fear.

“Easily,” Shirogane says.

The lights come on and Keith finally gets a good look at him. Shirogane stands several feet back from Keith, posture perfect, and is of course dressed and pressed within an inch of his life, each crease of his uniform perfect, every spot of metal and leather shined. Keith would take a step back out of intimidated admiration, were he able to move.

The Admiral takes a step closer, the tread of his boots heavy on the floor. Keith’s gaze flickers down to them, curious if he will move closer, but they still.

“Look me in the eye and tell me who else you’re fucking,” Shirogane says.

The words don’t register for Keith. He blinks twice in confusion and searches the Admiral’s face for any indication that this is some kind of joke, that he didn’t really hear what he thinks he heard.

“Lieutenant Commander,” Shirogane thunders when no answer is forthcoming. “Don’t make me ask you again.”

“I—I’m not,” Keith stammers. He tries to drag Shirogane’s hand away from his neck to make it easier to speak, but it refuses to even twitch. “Sir, I promise I’m not—”

Metal fingers curl a hair tighter around Keith’s throat, the motion impossible to miss in a hold this intimate. “Then explain to me why there are so many rumors about you bending over for anyone with a higher rank than you.”

Keith gapes at Shirogane.

“Was I not excruciatingly clear about who you belong to now, officer?”

“Sir—”

Shirogane interrupts him, talking over his stuttered questions and confusion. He asks Keith a lot of questions for someone who doesn’t really seem to care about the answers Keith gives. “Because I heard,” the Admiral says in a deadly tone, “that after you stretched yourself for _me,_ like I told you to, you let a fucking _Captain_ touch your ass. Now you’re telling me I was lied to about that?”

“Yes, sir,” Keith says fervently. He strains to be closer, to be allowed to show Shirogane just how much he means this. “I didn’t—I would never, I promised you I wouldn’t.”

 The hand squeezes tighter; any further, and Keith worries about his ability to still breathe.

“If I find out that you’re lying to me right now,” Shirogane says, his voice nearly a whisper and still the most powerful thing Keith has ever heard, “I will ruin you. You know I can.”

“Absolutely sir,” Keith replies immediately. God, he doesn’t have a doubt about that. “You can trust me.”

Shirogane’s disgusted, dead stare is all the answer Keith needs to that. “It’s time for your inspection, Officer,” the Admiral says, voice dragging over gravel. His hand falls from its grip around Keith’s neck but his words keep Keith pinned in place. “Take your clothes off and put your hands on the wall. You better not have let anyone else fuck you.”

Keith doesn’t waver or hesitate.

Shirogane watches with an impassive face as Keith begins with his jacket, then undershirt, then boots. The clothes go into a pile right in front of the door because Keith doesn’t dare make the Admiral wait for him to fold them, much less hang them up in his closet. He slides his trousers and underwear off in one go, leaving him bare before the Admiral’s discerning gaze. He’s almost used to this, but that doesn’t mean Keith likes how the balance of power tips even farther away from him with each piece of clothing he loses.

The Admiral’s eyes rake over his naked body but give nothing away. Keith’s cock twitches and he immediately turns around to hide his vulnerability in the face of Shirogane’s broad shoulders in uniform.

“I saw that,” Shirogane murmurs. “You get easier every time we see each other. And you still have no respect for your uniform.”

Keith swallows and closes his eyes, laying his heated forehead to the cool wall.

A heavy metal hand presses against the center of Keith’s shoulders, pushing his chest into the wall. Shirogane doesn’t move closer but Keith can still feel the weight of his eyes raking over the lines of Keith’s body, objectifying and consuming him in a single action. He hopes the Admiral sees something he likes—not for the sake of Keith’s ego, but for the hope that it would make tonight easier on Keith, especially considering he’s already hell-bent on punishing Keith for a made-up infraction. It would be a mercy, maybe.

Keith kicks the thought of _mercy_ to the curb.

“Spread yourself open for me,” Shirogane commands.

Desire sears through Keith’s gut and his hands shake as he lowers them from the wall. He feels feverish. He doesn’t know what it is exactly that Shirogane thinks will prove that Keith hasn’t been disloyal, and he has to wonder if there’s an invented slight in his future that Shirogane will use as justification to make his life hell.

It’s really bad that beneath all of that, under all the nervousness and confusion, there’s a part of Keith that’s just upset that Shirogane might not fuck him tonight. Keith bites his lip before his dissatisfaction can spill out in a frustrated sigh.

The Admiral makes him wait, just like that, hands spreading his own ass so Shirogane can stare at his ass and bask in how stupidly fucking _easy_ Keith is for him, even when he’s being threatened. Keith doesn’t hear him move closer; he listens for movement, but the sound of his own breath in his ears must cover the noise of the Admiral’s boots on the ground. All Keith knows is one moment, his mind teeters on the edge of breaking down, and the next, two rough fingers find their way to Keith’s hole without a hint of gentleness or hesitation, never allowing Keith a moment to think. They press relentlessly inside, invading him just long enough for Shirogane to assess that Keith is still wet and stretched from his shower earlier, but not like he’s been fucked that day. Keith holds his breath.

It’s over too quickly for Keith to feel any satisfaction at the touch.

"You did what I told you to do," Shirogane says. Keith can't read the emotion in his tone—the words are positive, but Keith always struggles to understand the enigma that is the Admiral.

"Yes, sir," Keith says. His skin tickles with the ghost of air moving as Shirogane sighs loudly.

"I admit, I’m a little surprised with you, officer,” Shirogane remarks. His earlier ire has faded to gruff appreciation, the closest he ever comes to praising Keith. “Following orders is out of character for you.”

Keith doesn’t respond to that. He’s actually very good at following orders and he wants to explain that to Shirogane, that he’s done nothing _but_ follow orders.

“Hands on the wall."

Keith slaps both palms to the wall on either side of his head. He’s neither keen to test the Admiral’s patience nor interested in the humiliation of continuing to spread himself open for Shirogane to leisurely peruse.

"Do you think you deserve a reward?" the Admiral asks.

It feels like a trick question. Keith presses his toes into the hard floor and weighs his options in a split-second consideration. He murmurs, "Only if you think I deserve one."

Shirogane snorts. Metal fingers curl through the hair at the base of Keith's neck, tugging at the strands. It doesn't hurt, but Keith braces himself for the potential sudden onslaught of pain—he's too familiar now with the Admiral's mercurial attitude, his unwillingness to allow Keith even one moment of certainty. The right answer never comes easy and, sometimes, Keith doesn't know if there's even a right answer at all.

"You're wet and stretched enough that you could take me right now, aren't you." Shirogane’s tone brooks no room for argument—it definitely isn't a question.

Keith doesn't know if he agrees with him, considering it’s been most of a day since he fingered himself. He could take it, though. It wouldn't be easy, but Shirogane could fuck him now, and maybe they could end this quickly.

He says, "I am, sir."

Suddenly, Shirogane's hand tightens its grip in Keith’s hair, pulling his head back from the wall and forcing his spine into a backbend. Keith gasps and struggles against it, but the Admiral's metal arm is stronger than Keith ever could be.

"Then what I think," Shirogane murmurs, every word delicately placed, "is that you do deserve a reward. Will you accept it?"

Keith doesn't want to. He really, _really_ doesn't want to because the Admiral's rewards for good behavior always come with hidden demands of repayment and Keith doesn't know if he can handle what Shirogane will want out of him in return. Nothing the Admiral gives is ever truly a gift.

But Keith doesn't have the guts to deny him.

"Yes," Keith says finally. It comes out too breathless and longing.

Shirogane releases Keith's hair and slides his hand down to Keith's ass instead. Keith relaxes into the wall. The Admiral’s hand feels so big on Keith's body and the proprietary touch sends real sparks of arousal to Keith's dick, teasing him with how much he wants Shirogane to reach between Keith's legs and touch him for real.

The Admiral leans in real close, his breath ghosting over the shell of Keith’s ear. He hums as if he wants to say something. Keith braces himself for an insult but it never comes.

Keith shivers.

A little breathy _ha_ sounds in Keith’s ear, triumphant, and then Shirogane’s boot pushes in between Keith’s ankles and kicks them apart. Keith lurches to the side—the only thing that keeps him upright is the warm hand that settles itself like a brand on Keith’s waist, strong and unforgiving.

"Spread your legs," Shirogane whispers, barely disguising his laughter.

Keith swallows and resettles his weight, leaning up onto the balls of his feet.

Shirogane leans back to slap at Keith's inner thigh, right at the place where Keith is ticklish; his leg flinches.

"More," Shirogane demands, and Keith obeys without question.

Then he’s left bereft. The Admiral backs away, suddenly exposing Keith’s body to the cool air. He has to stand there, naked, vulnerable, inexplicably wanting—and he has to wait while Shirogane stomps deeper into Keith’s quarters, doing whatever he wants. Keith doesn’t dare move, not even an inch, so he just has to _wait_ until Shirogane returns.

He stops behind Keith.

“I really think you’re going to enjoy this, officer,” Shirogane says conversationally. “I know how much you love being held down.”

Even with that warning, Keith doesn't expect what comes next. He pictures handcuffs or rope, maybe even a necktie if Shirogane is feeling spontaneous and just pulled something out of Keith’s closet.

He does not imagine two cuffs locking around his ankles, a spreader bar in between.

Keith gasps. He doesn’t mean to make a sound, but when he looks down in disbelief and sees it, it’s impossible to hold back a reaction. The bar is about two feet long, metal burnished a dark, deep red; the leather cuffs are the same color. Something instinctual compels Keith to try to shuffle his stance, just to test the bar, and he finds it sturdy and unforgiving.

He’s locked in.

His head is spinning with arousal.

Never in his life had Keith thought about this. It’s impossible for him to hide from Shirogane, to press his thighs together and get away. He doesn’t even know if he can walk.

He whimpers. This shouldn't be hot.

"Oh, I like this," Shirogane whispers. The room is dead silent and Keith hears every crisp wave of sound from the Admiral's mouth. "How does it feel, officer?"

Keith doesn't know what to say. He tries, "I . . . ." but no words come out. Blood rushes in his ears, desire burning like a wildfire inside him, and Keith doesn't even know _why._

Shirogane slaps his ass. It startles Keith so much he nearly jumps out of his skin.

The Admiral commands, "Answer me."

"I—I don't know how it feels," Keith says, lost in his own head. "I can't—it won't—I can’t _move."_

"I know." Shirogane's voice is darkly pleased. "Do you understand why this is a reward?"

This feels a lot more like a reward for Shirogane than it is one for Keith, so he defers. He doesn't understand, but he's sure that the Admiral would love to explain it to him.

"Because now you can't disobey me," Shirogane whispers, his mouth right up against Keith's ear again. "Because no matter what I do to you now, you're always going to have your legs spread for me, just like I want you to. Isn't that nice of me, Lieutenant Commander? Aren't you thankful that I'm giving you the tools to be obedient?"

Keith clenches his jaw hard, hoping to push down the arousal in his gut. It doesn't abate; it refuses, and Keith has to turn his head away from Shirogane to say, "Thank you, sir. I—I love it."

“Mm,” Shirogane hums. “You’re such a slut.”

He punctuates his words with an almost affectionate slap to Keith’s ass.

Almost.

It makes Keith actually feel like a slut. Standing like this, with his legs spread apart far enough to nearly unbalance him, Keith is completely at the Admiral's mercy, and Shirogane is mocking him for it.

Keith shouldn't like this. He shouldn't get off on it or yearn for it in his darkest, most private moments.

But _shouldn't_ is a world away from how he actually feels when Shirogane rubs his fingers over Keith's hole and breathes on the back of his neck, lips landing on Keith's sensitive skin for just a moment before they become teeth nipping at him. Keith shudders and tips his head back into it.

"I have so many plans for you, boy," Shirogane whispers. The tiny hairs all over Keith's body rise at the words and the shivering feeling of breath ghosting over his ear. "I thought about bringing something to tie up your hands, but it's better when you have to hold yourself in place. I like watching you struggle to get away."

Keith’s fingers curl against the wall. _That's sick,_ Keith tells himself, forcing his hands into fists to hide his reaction, but he doesn't believe it for a moment.

"First," Shirogane says, drawing back, "I'm going to make you kneel."

His metal hand closes around Keith’s bicep. Shirogane doesn’t give Keith a chance to cross the short distance to the sitting area on his own—he uses his massive strength to drag Keith there, ignoring his stumbling and struggle. Keith doesn’t get a chance to find his balance because as soon as he makes it over to the couch, the Admiral pushes him to his knees. Keith’s palms hit the floor as he catches himself.

“Hands behind your back,” Shirogane snaps.

Keith sucks up his pride and obeys.

The spread of Keith's ankles might look comical in another setting, but like this, he just feels utterly exposed. His legs might punish him later for daring to contort his body into this position, but as long as Keith stays balanced upright and doesn't sit back against his heels, he should be fine.

Shirogane settles on the couch with his knees spread wide on either side of Keith. The gray fabric of his uniform pants pulls tight against his cock, obviously hard. Keith stares at it, unable to stop the memories of what it's like when Shirogane fucks him from taking over.

Shirogane's hand rubs the long line of his cock. He snorts loud enough that Keith tears his gaze away in question.

"You want it that bad, officer?" Shirogane asks. "You look like you're about to cry if I don't let you suck my cock."

Keith swallows hard. "Sorry, sir."

Shirogane rolls his eyes "You're not sorry. Don't act like you are."

Okay. Fine, Keith won't apologize for wanting Shirogane's dick in his mouth, but he's also never going to forgive himself for the truth of it.

He ends up asking, "What do you want me to do, sir?"

"Absolutely nothing," the Admiral says. "You're not going to move a single muscle. It shouldn't be difficult, after what I've given you."

Keith doesn't nod. He's been through this enough times to recognize that the order starts _now_ —Keith doesn't get to move for any reason, once Shirogane has said it. He won't make the mistake of giving into desire.

Shirogane's metal hand then moves from his side, floating around Keith until it's behind him and out of sight. Keith says nothing and tries to hold Shirogane's gaze with as little challenge as possible, unwilling to look away but nervous about if the set of his eyebrows will be strong enough to upset Shirogane.

His first mistake is thinking only about Shirogane's prosthetic arm.

The Admiral slaps Keith hard across the face just then, and Keith cries out in surprise. His breathing turns to gasping as he rights his head to face Shirogane again, only for Shirogane to hit him again.

"I told you not to fucking move," Shirogane snarls, and Keith freezes before he can move his head again. "It only took you sixteen seconds to forget my order, officer."

Shit.

"I wanted to fuck you," Shirogane says. "I really did, I thought you had earned it. But the fact that you ignore my orders every time I see you makes it so hard to get there when I have to spend all of my time disciplining you." The Admiral grabs Keith's hair and hauls Keith's head around to face him. "Tell me, boy, are you doing this on purpose? Do you think you can distract me from getting what I want out of you just by being undisciplined?"

Keith's vision wobbles and the back of his throat tightens. He’s going to cry. "No, sir," he breathes.

"Either you're acting up for attention or you're really just that worthless, aren't you?"

Keith closes his eyes. Shirogane slaps him for the slight.

"I'm not sure you're worth teaching," Shirogane says, and Keith opens his eyes to give him an imploring look. Anything is better than this. "But the one thing you've proven to me is that you're so fucking willing to let yourself be used. Not only will you do _anything_ I tell you, but you get off on it. Like a fucking desperate slut." He studies Keith, head tipping slightly to the side.

Then, unexpectedly, Shirogane's metal finger nudges Keith's hole from behind, prodding at his rim with curiosity. Keith gasps quietly and braces himself just in time for the intrusion, Shirogane fucking up inside him in one quick motion. His finger is wet, thankfully, and the slide is easy to take, but Keith still isn't prepared for one finger to immediately turn to two. Keith's breath gets caught in his chest and then disappears completely when Shirogane curls his fingers expertly to press against where Keith is the most sensitive.

"I'm going to test you," the Admiral announces, "and then I'll decide what you're worth to me tonight."

Keith clenches his jaw against the noises he wants to make. Shirogane fingers him relentlessly, his thick fingers fucking into Keith hard and steady. It feels incredible to have Shirogane inside him, even just like this, and Keith has a wild moment of hoping that Shirogane won't take back his earlier promise to fuck Keith for real tonight. Keith wants it—he's put up with so much from Admiral Shirogane that at this point he just feels like he deserves it.

“What did you think about when you got yourself ready for me?” the Admiral asks. The way he speaks is lightly curious, as if he doesn’t have a care in the world about what he’s doing to Keith.

Fighting the urge to squirm, Keith digs his nails into his own hands. “Nothing,” he bites out. “I didn’t—it wasn’t like that.”

“It wasn’t,” Shirogane says dubiously. He puts the fingers of his free hand underneath Keith’s chin and tilts it up a fraction, considering. “Are you lying to your superior officer, Lieutenant Commander?”

“Sir—”

“Because I would hate to have to punish you when you know better.”

Keith grits his teeth and breathes through his nose to keep himself from moaning as Shirogane’s metal fingers fuck him so perfectly and intensely. Shirogane knows exactly how to touch him and what his body needs, and a bolt of pleasure hits Keith, making his hips twitch—the metal hand pulls out and slaps his ass in retaliation.

A groan stutters out of his mouth.

“Answer me, officer.”

Shirogane presses back inside Keith relentlessly, making his legs shake as Keith hisses out, “I thought of _you.”_

Everything stops all at once.

The Admiral seizes Keith by the throat, forcing him to find length in his spine to stretch as Shirogane pulls him upward, leaving Keith empty and wanting. “You’re saying you lied to me, boy?” Shirogane snarls, his fingers squeezing hard enough to bruise. His own arms shoot up to grab Shirogane’s wrist, as if he thinks he has the ability to stop the Admiral from taking his breath.

“Sorry—sorry, I’m sorry, sir,” he gasps in a thin, reedy voice. “Please don’t—I can’t—”

“Shut up.” Shirogane lets go of Keith’s throat, shaking his hand to dislodge Keith’s hold. “Put your fucking hands back where I said they should be. What have I told you about lying to me, boy?”

“N-not to.”

“I want to trust you, you know,” Shirogane says. It’s a sudden change in tone and demeanor. “But you keep showing me over and over that you’re willing to lie to me and disobey my orders. And I have to wonder if I was wrong to promote you in the first place. Have you thought about that at all, officer? How precarious your position here at the Garrison is?”

Keith shakes like a new leaf in the breeze. After everything he’s done—everything he’s let Shirogane do—the thought of it all lost to a split second of useless indignation is devastating. Shirogane’s eyes are dark and consuming; it’s like he could devour Keith, like he can see every fearful thought running through his head.

“Sir,” he rasps, “I can make it up to you. A-anything.”

Shirogane caresses Keith’s cheek. There’s no other word for the gentle touch, but his gaze is anything but tender.

“You make all these promises to me,” Shirogane whispers, “and you don’t have a clue about all the awful things I would love to do to you.”

Keith swallows hard and weighs his words. “Sorry, sir, but—but I know enough. I do.”

“Do you?”

Shirogane sits back, slumping against the back of the couch. He rubs a hand over his dick and thumbs at his belt buckle, clearly considering his options as his gaze roams over Keith’s naked body. “Tell me the truth, then. What did you think about this morning while you screwed your own fingers and imagined they were mine?”

“I just wanted you to fuck me,” Keith says in a rush. “It was—it was so good, sir, the first night.”

“And it hasn’t been good since then?”

“No, it has,” Keith swears. “I just—I miss it. It was—fuck.” He has to close his eyes; he will give Shirogane the truth because it was demanded of him, but he can’t look at him while it happens. “When you made me come, I—that was the hardest I’ve ever come in my life.”

Keith waits for a response in silence and darkness, and it comes in the form of metal fingers sliding down his spine, seeking out his hole to rub over him, the touch so teasing. Shirogane rumbles, “Did you get off on it?”

Keith shakes his head.

“Good. That’s good. Open your eyes.” Keith obeys and the corner of Shirogane’s mouth twitches with approval. He’s coaxing answers out of Keith and he knows exactly how to make it happen. “Is that all you thought about?”

Keith doesn’t want to admit the truth, but he doesn’t have the upper hand on Shirogane. “N-no.”

Shirogane’s middle finger slides inside of him, just stretching his hole without providing any real relief. Keith’s thighs shake and his knees hurt, the strain on his body becoming more and more pronounced the longer Shirogane keeps him here, body struggling to hold the position the spreader bar forces him into taking.

“And?” Shirogane prompts him.

Keith licks his lips. “The way you talk to me,” he whispers, embarrassed. He’s so fucking hard. “I thought about that, too.”

“What does that mean?”

“When you call me a—a slut,” Keith admits.

Finally, Shirogane moves his finger, fucking Keith slowly, every movement dragging inside and sparking a place so deep that Keith wants to curl forward and press his forehead to the ground between Shirogane’s big leather boots.

Shirogane says, “That look on your face, boy, the one right there? That’s why I keep coming back to you.” His belt buckle clinks as he tugs it open one-handed, dexterous and enticing enough that Keith can’t tear his eyes away from the motion. “A slut who likes it when he’s called a slut. What are you thinking about right now?”

“I want to suck your cock,” Keith blurts out. He doesn’t care about dignity anymore; he’s turned on enough to ache with it and he _needs_ this. Shirogane thumbs at the button on his pants. “Please, can—can I—”

“No.”

The word is crushing, tearing Keith’s excitement to pieces.

“Don’t get greedy,” Shirogane reprimands. “You wouldn’t like it if I gave into everything you want, right?”

Keith hates that Shirogane would say that to him. “No,” he says in a small voice.

A second finger pushes inside Keith again, stretching him as Shirogane fucks them inside up to the knuckles. Keith shudders and a moan forces its way out of his throat.

“You’re not going to come,” Shirogane says. “No matter what I do, you are not allowed to come, understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Repeat it back to me.”

“I won’t come,” Keith promises, “no matter what you do.” He has no idea if he should be making promises like that, but what can he do? He can’t defy Shirogane.

With a sigh, Shirogane finally undoes his pants, dragging the zipper down tooth by tooth while Keith’s eyes zero in on the movement. His lips part to help him breathe as he watches transfixed. The Admiral pulls his cock out of his pants, stroking it once from base to tip. Keith’s mouth waters; it’s trained into him now to want to instinctively lean forward. He’s on his knees before Shirogane and Shirogane has his cock out—but he’s not allowed to suck on the head, to choke himself down the length of it while spit drools out of the corners of his mouth.

He would. Keith would cry and beg and plead for the opportunity, but his cheek still smarts from Shirogane slapping him before. He won’t press his luck.

“Such a slut,” Shirogane says, the twist of a smile on his face as he slowly jerks his dick. “You want to suck my cock so bad.”

“I do, sir,” Keith breathes. He wants to ruck Shirogane’s uniform jacket up his stomach and scrape his nails through the trail of hair that leads down to his cock.

Shirogane lets go of his cock to slap Keith lightly across the cheek. “And what did I tell you about that?”

“I’m not allowed to,” Keith replies dutifully.

“Maybe I’ll fuck you later after all.” Shirogane reaches the base of his cock and holds there, tilting his head at Keith. “Are you ready to show me how good of a slut you can be?”

“Yes, sir.”

Shirogane smirks.

That’s when Keith learns that the Admiral’s metal hand has a vibrating function.

 _“Guh,”_ Keith moans, his shoulders curling forward in surprise. “Oh my god.” His thighs start shaking almost immediately and his hard cock drips with excitement—it’s too much already; Shirogane’s fingers don’t even have to move to drive Keith wild. But when they do, oh, that’s when Keith loses himself.

Shirogane fucks him hard, nailing his prostate and driving him closer and closer to an orgasm with every touch. Keith swears the vibration travels through his whole body without reserve, pleasure driving down to the very tips of his toes.

“Did you imagine this?” Shirogane asks. “Did you think about how easy it is to humiliate you when I put you on your knees in front of me?”

“N-no,” Keith hiccups. He screws his eyes up, clenching his hands into fists. Oh, fuck, he wants to come.

“Don’t come,” Shirogane reminds him. He fucks his hand into Keith with a mechanical precision, even thrust aimed to maximize the amount of pleasure Keith feels from it.

Keith swears, “I won’t,” but he can feel the lie forming in the pit of his stomach. Arousal pools like molten gold within him. Body shaking, teeth grinding, fingers clenching; Keith loses his balance and falls forward, his torso crashing into Shirogane’s knees. He’s too far gone to even recognize what’s happening; he clenches his fists in Shirogane’s pant legs, searching desperately for something to ground himself in.

“Stop,” he begs, “stop, stop, _please,_ I can’t—sir, please, I’m— _fuck—”_

The Admiral doesn’t stop, even as Keith pleads with teary eyes. Shirogane’s gaze bores down into Keith’s very soul and he says something with his mouth, but Keith’s heart pounds in his ears too loudly to hear anything else.

Keith is going to come. He’s tried with every part of his soul and body to stop it and he curses Shirogane for doing this to him. Keith can’t stop himself from disobeying his superior’s direct orders.

He’s not sure he wants to.

When he comes, Keith’s body implodes. He moans so loud it sounds like a scream, his face pushed sloppily against Shirogane’s knee to try to silence himself, but there’s no hope of keeping it in. He aches with the release but it feels so _perfect,_ exactly what he’s been craving for too long.

He comes untouched, and it’s the hardest orgasm he can remember having in his entire life. Tears fall from the corners of Keith’s eyes. His cheek stings and his shoulders shudder with the aftershocks of orgasm.

Even through his blurry eyes, though, he can see his mistake. He didn’t only just come without permission—he ruined the shine on the Admiral’s leather boots.

When the _oh shit_ feeling drops in, the post-orgasmic pleasure vanishes into the ether.

“I’m sorry,” Keith chokes out, the words coming before he can stop them. “Admiral Shirogane, sir, I swear I didn’t mean to ruin them, I never—”

“What was that?”

Shirogane’s voice is deadly.

“Y-your boots. Sir.” Keith trembles as he looks back down at them. The Admiral’s perfect, meticulously maintained combat boots are streaked with Keith’s come, messed up so profanely. Keith wants to disappear. “I’m so sor—”

The Admiral backhands Keith hard enough that he loses his balance and falls halfway to the ground, a hand shooting out to brace himself on the floor. His breath comes in hitched little gasps of pain and a tear falls down his smarting cheek, burning a hot trail that turns to ice as it dries.

Shirogane sighs heavily, a long, disappointed huff of air that turns Keith’s insides into a mess. “You came without permission,” he murmurs, “and I will punish you for that, boy, make no mistake. But first, you’re going to clean up the mess that you made. I think that ought to be punishment enough, don’t you?”

Keith shies away from the Admiral’s left hand reaching out for him, but the fingers find his hair anyway and pull his head up to look at Shirogane. Mouth open, cheeks red, and crying, Keith can’t imagine what a wreck he looks right now.

“Unless that’s too much for you,” Shirogane says condescendingly. “Am I asking too much?”

“No, sir, n-never.”

Shirogane releases him with a shove. His knees spread wider, the fabric of his pants stretching tight over his thick, muscular thighs. Keith traces the long lines of his legs down to Shirogane’s boots again. They’re huge and he feels horrible about ruining them, but there’s something intoxicating about knowing what he’s done. Who else in the Garrison can claim they came on Admiral Shirogane’s leather boots, messing up the perfect officer? Who else can say they sat on their knees before the legendary Admiral and did this?

Keith pushes down his pride. The thought of the Admiral noticing it strikes fear back into his heart.

Shirogane orders, “Clean them.”

Keith can do that. He can fix his mistake. He’ll be punished still but hopefully he can do a good enough job to get back in the Admiral’s good graces—or as good as they can be—and then Keith can just—

What is he thinking? Keith shakes his head to dislodge the thought: why does he need to impress Shirogane? He already fucked up, there’s no going back from it now. Keith isn’t here to try to make the Admiral like him or respect him, not when Shirogane has already made it abundantly clear that he has no need for Keith outside of using his body to get off on torturing. Keith is disposable and replaceable. He can’t change that just by doing a good job shining a pair of boots.

It’s a shaking hand that Keith reaches down. He’s about to wipe away the first smear of come when Shirogane’s voice strikes.

“Use your fucking mouth, officer.”

Keith freezes in disbelief. He looks at the boots again, at his own come; this has to be another one of Shirogane’s tests.

“Sir, please—”

“The Garrison will be happy to discharge you for failing to respect the uniform, I’m sure,” Shirogane threatens idly. No one should sound that cavalier about holding the fate of another person in their big, greedy hands.

Keith stares at his face and searches for any hint that this is a trick.

It’s humiliating to find nothing.

Keith bends down tentatively, shooting a glance up at the Admiral one last time, just to check that he’s still serious. Shirogane’s face, though, remains as impassive and unreadable as ever, and so Keith has no choice but to fall to his hands and knees, legs spread wide and ass sticking up in the air. He lowers his mouth to Shirogane’s right boot and hovers there, steeling himself.

He is going to lick his own come off Admiral Shirogane’s big, black leather boots.

The first touch of his tongue to leather tilts the axis of Keith’s world. Keith has to remember that this is a chore and an imposition, that the way Shirogane treats him isn’t supposed to be something Keith craves or gets off on.

But his desire doesn’t listen to sense. The wave of arousal hits fast.

He moves slowly, working his way across Shirogane’s boots a fraction of an inch at a time, taking care to get the whole mess cleaned without smearing spit all over the boots. His methodical approach takes more time, forcing him to spend longer down here, but he doesn’t want to screw it up. He doesn’t want Shirogane to find his work incomplete and punish him again.

Keith is worthless, here. He has nothing but this to give the Admiral—nothing except the pleasure Shirogane gets out of seeing him so desperate and needy, and Keith tries his best to keep a straight face on and never give away his feelings, but—

He moans.

Keith drags his tongue across the stitched seam below the laces on Shirogane’s boots and he _moans_ with a weird, awful mix of arousal and disgust.

Shirogane does not miss it.

“You’re getting off on this.” The Admiral’s tone is just as disbelieving as Keith feels. “Is there anything you wouldn’t take from me?”

Keith doesn’t have to give it thought or consideration. Shirogane likes to talk and he likes Keith to shut up, and he hasn’t actually indicated that he wants a real answer to that question. Keith will give it anyway.

“Anything,” he says, strong enough for Shirogane to hear it.

_Anything._

He means it in the moment he says it.

Shirogane sighs quietly and says, "I know. Now finish your job."

Keith does his best to clean the Admiral's boots, his tongue getting sloppier and sloppier as the reality of his situation sets in. His hands brace his body against the floor, keeping himself from falling face first into Shirogane's boots. He must look desperate, folded up on the floor with his legs bound tightly apart and his head almost bumping the couch.

Shirogane certainly seems to appreciate the sight, if the noises above Keith are anything to go by. There’s no mistaking the small sighs and the quiet sound of Shirogane’s arm moving as he touches himself above Keith. The Admiral is getting off to this: to Keith on his hands and knees, forced to polish his superior’s boots with his tongue.

The Admiral is getting off to it; of course he is. What’s worse, though, is that so is Keith.

Keith struggles to push himself to his knees once he's finished. Thighs burning and knees aching, Keith forces himself to look Admiral Shirogane in the eye and challenge him to punish Keith now. He wants to make Shirogane look their utter depravity in the eye and declare that it still isn't enough; Keith won't be the one to do it for him.

“That was good,” the Admiral says, just a hint of roughness edging his voice and betraying the hand moving on his cock. “Thank me for giving you that privilege.”

The humiliation never ends.

“Thank you for—for letting me lick your boots, sir,” Keith says. He tries to keep his tone mechanical, unaffected, like this isn’t breaking him down inside, but he doesn’t think that’s even possible. How can Keith act like Shirogane doesn’t actually affect him? He came untouched just from the Admiral’s fingers inside him and moaned through cleaning up his own mess.

Keith needs to stop lying about what this means to him.

Shirogane’s mouth is curled up into a smile. It looks nothing like mirth. “I do believe you can learn to listen, officer,” he says. The hand on his cock slows until he’s just holding himself, but Keith can’t let his gaze dip to look. He can’t want to suck Shirogane off, not right now. “Every time I punish you is for your own good. You understand that, right?”

Keith doesn’t _understand_ how being told to lick his own come off Shirogane’s boots benefits anyone but Shirogane’s humiliation kink, but he nods. “Yes, sir.”

“Then you agree that I have to spank you now.”

Obviously, Keith doesn’t have any other options. He’s not going to weasel his way out of this by presenting Shirogane with a well-reasoned argument why that’s really _not_ necessary. He could beg, but that never works. Shirogane likes to hear him beg just so he can deny Keith, not because he actually wants to give Keith what he asks for.

None of that stops Keith from trying to dissuade him.

“I—I’ve learned my lesson,” he swears. “I cleaned up the mess, I promise, sir, I won’t do it again.”

Shirogane slaps him. “Do you remember the last thing I asked you to promise me?” he demands, a disbelieving laugh following it. “Don’t come. That’s all I asked. And then you did, and I had to punish you for the mess you made, but now I have to teach you not to ever fucking lie to me again. Get up here before you make it worse for yourself.”

Fuck.

“How should I—”

“Over my lap, officer.”

Keith grits his teeth. He tries, he really does, but he doesn’t know how to stand up like this—how does he get his limbs to contort around the spreader bar? The possibility of falling face first into Shirogane’s lap makes it worse; Keith can’t imagine that would be appreciated. He’s never been bound like this and doesn’t know how to navigate it.

His body lurches in a final attempt to get his feet beneath him, but it ends with Keith falling to the side. He barely manages to catch himself, probably bruising his elbow in the process.

Shirogane laughs like Keith has just told a joke.

“Is there a problem, officer?”

“I—I can’t get up, sir.”

Shirogane’s head tilts to the side and there is no sympathy. “I’d hate to think you’re unhappy with the reward I gave you earlier. Try harder.”

Keith tries again—he never stops trying, ever. But this time when he’s close, Shirogane’s foot shoots out and kicks the bar, knocking him off balance again. Keith’s throat burns with frustration as Shirogane laughs at him, like Keith is a court jester performing solely for his entertainment.

It’s so far from the truth that Keith feels sick.

“There’s nothing you can do to get away from your punishment,” the Admiral says snidely, “but this is a new low for you.”

Before Keith can retort with an ill thought argument, Shirogane’s hands reach out. They pull Keith into the Admiral’s lap unceremoniously, paying no heed to Keith’s yelp of shock as his whole world tilts. Shirogane rains down a solid smack with his left hand on Keith’s ass.

“This is what you wanted?” Shirogane hisses. His right hand makes a fist in Keith’s hair and holds him in place. “Fucking—useless. Disrespecting _everything_ I give you.”

Shirogane lays into Keith’s ass with all the strength his thick biceps can muster. Keith bites his lip, doing his best to keep everything inside, but he can’t hold out. It _hurts_ and Shirogane doesn’t let him have a moment to even breathe through the pain as he spanks Keith at a slow, hard pace. A whine rips through Keith’s clenched teeth and he scrambles blindly for a throw pillow he knows has to be around the couch somewhere. When he finds one, he buries his face into it—Keith hides his tears and his cries there, and Shirogane grants him that single concession.

It’s the only one, though. He’s methodical in his punishment, covering Keith’s whole ass and even the insides of his thighs. That’s the part that hurts the most and leaves Keith sobbing into the pillow, trying uselessly to curl away from the pain, but the spreader bar holds him prone. He’s so sensitive between his thighs and Shirogane absolutely knows that by now.

He knows every one of Keith’s weaknesses.

The blows stop unexpectedly. Keith tenses, uncertain what’s happening now, but Shirogane quickly pushes two fingers inside Keith and tugs at his rim, ignoring the way it makes Keith whimper. His metal hand slides down Keith’s back to spread Keith’s ass open for him, showing off how wet and stretched Keith's body is, ready for anything. The Admiral takes that invitation, pulling his fingers out so he can slap Keith's hole, a sharp, sudden strike that steals Keith's higher brain function.

"Slut," Shirogane says, voice edged with something Keith can’t name. He hits Keith there again. "Tell me, what are you?"

Keith's fingers clench in the throw pillow. "A slut," he sobs.

“That’s right. And I’m the one who has to fucking put up with it.” Shirogane pulls his fingers out to slap the inside of Keith’s thigh again, dangerously close to Keith’s balls. “This would be so much easier if you weren’t such a _disobedient_ little slut. I could have so much fun with you, officer, but you need me to spend all our time together putting you in your place.”

Keith buries his face deep into the pillow and whines. He’s scared of what’s going to happen when Shirogane sees how hard his cock is.

“You’re so fucking lucky I’m willing to put up with it,” the Admiral says.

Keith knows a cue when he hears it. “Thank you, sir,” he says hoarsely, just barely loud enough that Shirogane can hear him.

He can’t think straight. Keith doesn’t want the Admiral to know how hard he is, but every smack of Shirogane’s palm makes him squirm. He’s going to give himself away before too long when he loses himself in the haze of pleasure-pain ruling his mind. The longer it goes on, the hotter Keith’s body gets. He can feel the flush of arousal spreading from his face down his chest, coloring his skin with the proof of his true feelings. Whimpering into the pillow turns into choked off moans, and flinching away from Shirogane’s strikes turns into stuttering hips trying so hard not to seek out something to grind against.

But the secret can’t last forever.

Keith gives himself away. He knows it as soon as it happens—Shirogane roughly squeezes Keith’s thigh as if to prove how big and powerful his hands are, and Keith forgets himself. He moans and it is unmistakable as anything but pleasure.

Everything stops, even Keith’s heart.

“Lieutenant Commander,” Shirogane sighs. “My hopeless, beautiful slut . . . you just can’t help yourself. It’s like you want to belong to me, don’t you?”

Keith’s shoulders tense. “No,” he says, the force of it surprising even him. “I can’t, I—I won’t.”

“Oh, but I think you already do,” the Admiral says, reaching for Keith’s cock. It’s already fully hard under his touch, with no regard for propriety or for how recently Keith came.

Keith shakes his head. He bites his lip on a cry when Shirogane gives his cock a tight, steady stroke.

“You give me so much to punish you for, and then you refuse to have the dignity to not get off during it. I would think that if you really wanted to get away from me, you would obey. Then playing with you wouldn’t be quite so interesting.” Shirogane scratches his short nails over the inside of Keith’s thigh, his other hand planted squarely between Keith’s shoulder blades to keep him pinned across the Admiral’s lap. “Maybe I shouldn’t have been so quick to judge you earlier. I can’t imagine you’re this much of a slut for anyone else.”

“No,” Keith sobs. “I’m not a sl—”

“You are,” Shirogane interrupts with another spank. “You said it yourself, remember?”

Keith wants to say _no_ again, but what will it get him? Another harsh reprimand for lying? This side of Shirogane is darkly, maliciously tender, focused completely on prying Keith open to pick at all of his biggest secrets.

“I think I’ll use your mouth now so I don’t have to hear you tell me no again. We both know you don’t have a choice.” He pauses but doesn’t let Keith up. “And for the record, boy, I know you’ll get off on it. You’re going to choke on my cock and think about how much of a slut you have to be to want me to use you like that.”

Keith shivers. And then Shirogane is pushing him to the ground.

The Admiral does not wait for Keith to get comfortable and settled. His metal hand grabs Keith by the back of the neck as soon as he’s on his knees and drags him straight to Shirogane's lap. Keith's gasp of surprise comes when the Admiral feeds his cock into Keith's mouth, pushing his lips down over the head while Keith is still reeling and struggling to catch his balance without bracing himself on Shirogane's knees.

"Take it all," the Admiral orders. "Don't make me force you. Even though I know you’d like that.”

Shirogane’s words send shame burning through Keith like never before.

Keith squeezes his eyes closed so he doesn’t have to see Shirogane’s cock. This is nothing like what he wanted to do earlier—the angle on his throat is all sorts of wrong and he's still out of breath from Shirogane slapping his ass red and the shocking arousal it brought. There’s no skill or enjoyment in sucking cock like this, only debasement and Shirogane’s hands pulling relentlessly on Keith’s hair. But he knows that the Admiral absolutely does not give one shit about a single excuse Keith could give him; there are no options but to follow Shirogane's explicit instructions or face his deserved punishment.

No. His _punishment._ Keith doesn’t deserve any of this.

Pushing his thoughts away is hard, but Keith doesn’t want to think and analyze his actions any more. It just makes him slow, and Shirogane reads that as rebellion.

He really doesn’t want to make the Admiral think he hasn’t punished Keith enough.

Keith sneaks a hand up to wrap around the thick base of Shirogane's cock, palm pressing flat against the coarse hair there while his thumb and forefinger barely deign to meet around the girth of him. Keith uses the light touch to hold Shirogane's cock steady at a better angle, and then he begins to sink down.

There. He's got it.

"Fucking finally," Shirogane mutters under his breath. "Shouldn't be—be this hard when you've managed to do this before."

Keith hums an acknowledgement and concentrates on working his mouth and throat around Shirogane's cock. The faster Keith gets him off, the better, he's pretty sure, and so he throws himself into it with every trick he knows. No amount of experience makes opening up for Shirogane’s cock easy, but he can do his best.

It doesn't take very long. Whether that’s a testament to Keith’s skills or just the fact that the Admiral was so worked up from punishing Keith, he doesn’t know. Keith has barely settled into a rhythm before Shirogane lets out this quiet little moan, so secret that Keith barely hears it.

Shirogane's left hand tightens into a fist in the back of Keith's hair, holding him down tight enough to make Keith panic as his eyes start to water. Something creaks alarmingly off to the side and Shirogane comes down Keith's throat with a low groan.

Keith chokes. Shirogane's hips lift off the couch to try to grind deeper into Keith's throat, but there’s nowhere for him to go and his ridiculously sized dick is already hard enough to swallow without being held down on it, no regard for Keith’s comfort or consent.

He can’t help his body struggling to get away—it’s instinctual as the fear and arousal—but he’s mindful enough to keep his hands off to the side. Show no resistance. Just let Shirogane get it over with, swallow his come, and then Keith can fucking breathe again. Keith's throat is raw and he's crying now, great big tears rolling down his cheeks in droves; he can't stop them, not until Shirogane finally releases him.

Keith flies back and dissolves into a coughing fit. His mouth and chin are covered in spit and god knows what else, marking him a mess and a slut, and he looks up at Shirogane with complete shock.

"That's what I like to see," Shirogane rasps. He's just the barest hint sweaty at the temples. "You choking on my cock makes me come so hard, boy."

Keith tries to respond but his throat is too wrecked to speak. He coughs weakly and wipes at the mess on his chin futilely.

"Here." Shirogane reaches out a hand and thumbs at the corner of Keith's mouth. The gesture is so sweet that Keith's heart flips, right up until the moment Shirogane shoves the thumb into Keith's mouth and demands him to clean it off.

Keith is stupid for thinking the Admiral would ever touch him with something approaching affection.

Shirogane sighs then, slumping back against the couch. He looks arrogantly satisfied, watching Keith try to compose himself on his knees. For a moment, Keith thinks this might be it—maybe the Admiral got what he wanted and he’ll take his spreader bar and leave Keith coughing on the floor of his own home, putting the pieces of his own soul back together.

But that would never happen.

Wordlessly, the Admiral pulls Keith’s face back to his lap. He pushes his head of his cock into Keith’s mouth, soft but no less of a mouthful, and then he just sits there. No instructions, no warnings or explanation, just Keith on his knees struggling to comprehend. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands so he twists them together on his lap; his muscles struggle to hold his body in this weird, half-hunched over position. He can’t get comfortable.

“Mm,” Shirogane sighs, threading his fingers through Keith’s hair so he can make a fist and hold Keith there. “You have such a talented mouth, officer. Do you remember the first time when you couldn’t even take me?” Shirogane laughs to himself and tugs Keith in closer, feeding another fraction of his cock inside Keith’s mouth. “I think I was too big for you then, right? I had to teach you.”

Keith digs his nails into his palms. Hot shame floods him. He tries to take a breath to clear his head, but everything smells like skin and sex and Shirogane.

"Are you ready for me to fuck you?” Shirogane asks. Slowly but surely, he’s getting hard again, his cock filling Keith’s mouth, and it’s a struggle for Keith to keep himself from crying. His tired limbs shake with the effort it takes to stay balanced over Shirogane’s lap like this and the Admiral doesn’t care at all. “I know how bad you’re craving something inside you, boy. I’m going to keep you on my cock until you can’t take it anymore. You’re going to wish you had never asked me for anything.”

Keith makes a strangled noise of uncertainty and fear and maybe—just maybe—arousal, and he sucks at the Admiral’s cock without thinking. Shirogane smacks his cheek for that but uses the fist in Keith’s hair to drag his mouth up and down his cock, giving him no choice but to submit.

“You’ll take it,” Shirogane whispers, strained, like he doesn’t mean for Keith to hear it. “You always fucking take it.”

Keith experiences the most inexplicable sensation of confidence at that. He _is_ capable of meeting the Admiral's challenges, no matter how impossible and humiliating they might seem in the moment, and Keith will not be broken. He cannot be broken. Shirogane is a human man: he is flawed and weak just like any other. Keith, for all his struggle with this awful, addictive relationship, has never forgotten that fact.

Keith and the Admiral aren't really that different.

Shirogane drags him off and pushes him away. His cock stands proud and fully hard, shining with Keith’s spit, and Keith cannot look away except to glance briefly at the Admiral’s haughty face.

Time stretches out into an infinite moment.

"Sir," Keith says, throat too aching and sore to muster anything but a hoarse, strained voice. "I—I'm ready."

The corner of Shirogane's mouth twitches. He murmurs, "I'm sure you think you are.”

Keith dips his head so he doesn’t have to look at the Admiral. He’s as ready as anyone ever could be.

“I still haven’t decided how I’m going to fuck you,” Shirogane muses. “Over the back of your couch, just to remind you how cheap you are? Or should I take you into your bedroom? Maybe you should choose, officer.”

Remaining staunchly silent is hard, but Keith puts on the facade of abstaining out of defiance. He won’t give Shirogane more than that—he will do anything Shirogane wants, but he’s done allowing the Admiral to make him complicit in it.

Shirogane leans down to speak in Keith’s ear. “Don’t forget, officer, you’re worthless to me either way. But I can keep you here all night waiting for you to pick which one’s gonna get you off.”

“No,” Keith whispers, turning his chin to the side. Shirogane’s breath wafting over his skin tickles.

Metal fingers grab Keith by the chin to pull him back. “Two options,” he repeats, delicate and dangerous. “Pick one. Is it better if I fuck you in the bed you sleep in every night? You’ll never be able to forget what I did to you there, but at least you’ll be comfortable, baby.”

 _Don’t answer,_ Keith screams at himself. _Don’t give him an inch, he takes miles and miles._

The silence drags.

But Shirogane is not patient, not anymore. He stares Keith right in the eyes, a dark gaze filled with more power and control than any kind of desire, and he raises a brow at Keith. The Admiral’s voice drops lower and quieter than before and says, “Your third option is for me to punish you in the hallway again, but this time everyone will see how desperately in need of correction you are.”

Keith can’t stop his reaction to that last one. The urge to deny it is visceral and his face can’t help but flash with fear and uncertainty—Shirogane _can’t_ , he can’t do that to Keith.

The Admiral smirks. “Good. You have a real opinion. Choose, boy.”

But Keith can’t choose. He hates and longs for both choices, would take anything so long as Shirogane never follows through on his threats to publicly humiliate Keith.

Not that the Admiral ever misses a chance to humiliate Keith, no matter where they are.

“Do you like it better when I call you my _slut?”_ The Admiral slaps Keith’s cheek to punctuate his words, shocking Keith into a yelp. “Or baby—do you like it when I call you baby boy?” Shirogane laughs to himself, far too pleased. “Is it better if I treat you nice and pretend like I care about you while I fuck you?”

Keith presses his eyes closed until the insides of his lids dance. “Yes,” he admits.

“Baby boy,” the Admiral croons, deeply sarcastic, and Keith shrinks away from him even as his cock twitches with miserable, undeniable arousal. Shirogane laughs again and Keith can only assume it’s because he has eyes on Keith’s cock, knows exactly what this is doing to him. “Is that what you really thought about today when you fingered yourself open?”

“No, sir.”

“Really? That’s a shame.” Shirogane doesn’t press him further. He studies Keith and his gaze is calculating but not cold; sparks of heat dance in his eyes. “You look good like this, officer, so fucking messy. It’s too bad you’re actually decent at your job—I’d love to steal you away as my personal assistant.”

Keith swallows heavily. A seed of fear blooms in his stomach. “I—I don’t think I would be a very good assistant, sir.”

“I disagree.” Shirogane tilts his head. “You love being available for me to use whenever I want it. I can’t imagine a better quality for my right hand man.”

Keith doesn’t know what to say to that, but his silence displeases the Admiral.

“That was a compliment, boy.”

“Thank you, sir,” Keith is quick to say. No real part of him wants to take that job offer seriously, but he understands that the Admiral means it.

“Maybe you’ll take me up on it one day,” Shirogane muses. “Will you consider it? I’ll fuck you until you’re crying on my dick, baby, I won’t let you pretend anymore that you want anything more than to be my office whore.” His hand touches Keith’s throat almost tenderly. “You take me so, so beautifully, baby boy. Imagine what you could learn to do if I got to have you every day.”

There’s no guidebook for this kind of thing. Keith has no words and no coherent thought—all he knows is the way Shirogane looks at him, haughty and enthralled, and Keith aches inside for something he can’t articulate. This explosive need fills him, it consumes him, and all he can do is follow his scalding hot desire. Keith can’t play at reluctance anymore. He surges up on his knees to kiss Shirogane because he just fucking _has_ to, he can’t stop himself any more than he can stop the Earth from spinning. Shirogane meets his mouth with a savage kiss, cupping a hand around the back of Keith’s neck to hold him in place.

Somehow, Keith’s tongue ends up in the Admiral’s mouth, sharing the taste of Shirogane’s own cock with him.

Somehow, the Admiral hauls Keith up from the floor into his lap. _Somehow,_ Keith ends up with both of his arms wrapped around Shirogane’s shoulders, almost like a lover but still nowhere near affection. They kiss for an endless moment until Keith can’t breathe, but still Shirogane doesn’t let him go.

Keith kisses him until Shirogane’s thighs tense and the whole world lurches. He prepares to go tumbling to the floor, a fitting punishment for so carelessly ignoring the boundaries between them, but he never hits the ground. Shirogane stands with Keith held in his arms, all effortless strength, and Keith moans into the air as Shirogane bruises the underside of his chin. Keith shivers and he clings tighter, the coarse fabric of Shirogane’s jacket scratching across Keith’s bare arms. He wants to get the Admiral naked, to finally see _all_ of him, but he doesn’t dare ask. Shirogane has given him so much leeway already, and now he’s carrying Keith into the bedroom like their relationship has any kind of affection in it.

If only Keith didn’t crave him. If only there wasn’t some sick part of him in love with this feeling.

Shirogane throws Keith down onto the bed. He bounces twice and tries to scramble up the mattress so his feet aren’t hanging over the edge, but Shirogane plants his boot on the spreader bar and forces Keith’s legs to stay down. His black eyes are laser focused, dragging up Keith’s long legs to his hard cock to his open, shocked mouth. He doesn’t know if Shirogane likes what he sees, but he does know he wants Shirogane to enjoy the sight.

“Sir,” Keith whispers, “please fuck me.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

The pressure on the bar releases, but before Keith can move, Shirogane’s metal hand shoots down to grab it, raising it up and pushing it towards Keith until his knees are up by his shoulders, fully exposed for Shirogane. Will he fuck Keith like this, helpless to move and unable to look away?

Shirogane slaps his hole just for the sheer pleasure of it and Keith moans. He isn’t even surprised anymore—of course Shirogane wants to hit him. This isn’t about punishment, not anymore, because they know exactly how much Keith craves this. It goes beyond pleasure and pain somehow, beyond anything earthly, and when Shirogane hits him hard again Keith can only imagine this is transcendence.

“Please,” Keith begs, tears already gathering again at the corners of his eyes. “Please, _please,_ Admiral Shirogane, I want it so much.”

“Can’t fucking believe this is what makes you beg for my cock,” Shirogane says with disgust.

“Yes,” Keith says. His voice grows in strength with every word. “Yes, sir, _please—”_

“I should have brought a fucking gag.” Shirogane pushes the bar back a few more inches and lays a blow on Keith’s ass. “What else can I do to get you to beg for me? Do you like this too?”

Keith barely comprehends what happens as Shirogane leans in close and fucking spits on his hole.

There’s a low, broken noise. It takes a while for Keith to realize it came from his own throat.

“What was that?”

It wasn’t anything, but Keith is losing his ability to speak. He shakes his head, closes his eyes, and tries not to let every muscle in his body shake with exertion and impatience.

“So fucking nasty.” Shirogane leans down and—fuck, he licks over Keith’s hole, over his own spit, tasting Keith in a way that’s so dark and intimate. Keith almost thinks he’s imagining it, but he’s not that far gone. “My nasty, slutty baby boy,” Shirogane murmurs, and a soundless sob wracks Keith’s body.

“Will you cry for me when I fuck you?” the Admiral asks, low and overly self-assured. Keith should hate him. “Yeah, you’ll try to hold it together, but once I have my cock in you—I know how you’ll take it. You think you can handle anything. But the second you get what you really, really want—my big cock fucking you, _taking_ you, then you can’t even think.”

"Sir, _please."_

But Shirogane ignores him in favor of getting his mouth back on Keith’s hole. Keith is already open—embarrassingly open and ready—but that doesn't stop the Admiral from pressing closer to taste Keith, teasing him with something that can't mean anything but pleasure.

Keith moans. He wants to reach down and bury his fingers in Admiral Shirogane's silver hair.

"Fuck," Shirogane whispers. "You're such a slut. So fucking needy." He presses two fingers inside Keith like he's trying to prove a point and Keith has to bite his lip hard to keep himself from begging for the Admiral's cock again. He doesn’t need to be stretched anymore—his body is more than prepared.

There's nothing Keith can do except wait and sit in the shame of his own wanting.

He shudders when the Admiral finally pulls away. The weak little noise that comes out of his mouth isn't even a full whine.

"Thank you, sir," Keith sighs. He says it without thinking—Shirogane doesn't need to prompt him and Keith doesn't consider how humiliating it is that he's trained now to respond to how the Admiral touches him. But that, just now, might be the most intimate thing they've ever done. It feels wrong to not acknowledge it.

"You're welcome, officer." Keith can't tell if Shirogane is mocking him.

Shirogane finally stands up straight, his broad shoulders towering over Keith. His metal hand remains in the air holding the spreader bar tight while he digs in his pants pocket, coming up with the bottle of lube he used earlier. Keith's breath quickens, his gaze zeroed in on it.

In a display of dexterity, Shirogane manages to open the cap and wet his fingers one-handed, dropping the bottle off to Keith's side so he can slick up his cock. It's a minor miracle that he's already this hard, even with the way he used Keith’s mouth. Keith wonders for one wild second what the Admiral's stamina will be like tonight when he's already come once down Keith’s throat, but then the head of his cock is nudging against Keith's hole and he completely forgets why anything but that touch would ever matter to him.

"Sir . . . ." Keith pants. He unfists the bedsheets and lifts his shaking hands to hook around the backs of his knees, pulling his legs closer still to his chest and straining his body to its limit.

"That's another thing I like about you," Shirogane says, eyes focused on where the head of his cock touches Keith. "You're so small, baby. You don't look like you should be able to take me, but you do. Every time, however I want it—and you fucking love it."

Keith moans, lifting his head up to try and see Shirogane's cock. He greedily takes in the whole sight before him, from the enthralled, triumphant expression on Shirogane's face to how proportionate his thick cock looks when it's held in his giant hand. He's ready for it, ready for Shirogane to fuck deep inside of him and own Keith, to drive Keith to the brink of orgasm and despair again and again until he's just a drooling, sobbing mess crying out for someone to put him out of his misery, to let him come, to let him—

"Stop that."

Keith cuts off the whine he hadn't noticed leaving his mouth and his eyes snap back up to Shirogane's face. There's displeasure there and Keith's mood crashes—Shirogane can't be upset. If he's unhappy, he'll make Keith wait even longer, denying him over and over again, and all Keith wants is to feel him.

Shirogane's hand drops the bar, pulling Keith's legs down so his feet fall to the bed.

"No," Keith says frantically, and it catches painfully in his throat. "No, sir, I'm sorry, I—"

The Admiral slaps Keith’s inner thigh to shut him up. “You want it that bad?”

“Yes, sir, _please.”_

“Why?”

Keith doesn’t have any shred of pride left to hold onto. He knows the answer; he knows what Shirogane is looking for. “B-because I’m a slut,” he says, looking straight into the Admiral’s eyes. “I’m _your_ slut.”

“And what does my slut say when I give him what he wants?”

“Thank you, sir.”

The words linger in the air between them for just a moment, and Keith waits with bated breath.

“Baby boy,” Shirogane says softly, “you really are a cock-hungry slut.”

Before Keith can answer, the Admiral reaches out to grab him. He manhandles Keith, flipping him over onto his stomach and tugging his hips up so that Keith’s ass is presented high, the spreader bar pushing his thighs open, exposing him. The head of Shirogane’s cock notches itself against Keith’s rim and Keith holds his breath as it slips in, meeting barely any resistance despite its size. It’s not a surprise, after how much attention Shirogane has given Keith’s ass tonight, but Keith still can’t help but feel shame at how easily he opens up for it.

“Last time I fucked you,” Shirogane murmurs, “I didn’t get to see how you open up for me.” He pulls back after just part of it fucks inside Keith, his cock just barely teasing at Keith’s hole. One of Shirogane’s massive hands grips Keith tightly by the hip. “And now—now I get to watch your body submit to me.”

A wordless shout punches its way out of Keith’s chest as Shirogane fucks the whole of himself inside Keith, hard.

Keith claws at the bedding until the Admiral’s metal hand snatches up both his wrists and holds them behind Keith’s back. He can’t do anything but sob into the sheets with his ass in the air.

“That’s it, boy,” Shirogane snarls, suddenly vicious now that he’s gotten what he wants. “So—fucking—open for me.”

His words come in time with his hips rolling, fucking Keith deep and relentless. Even as Shirogane loses himself in it and his nasty mouth gives way to panting breaths, Keith never stops feeling overwhelmed. Shirogane has him thoroughly bound and all the leverage belongs to him standing behind Keith.

Keith cries into the mattress, saying _yes_ over and over and over. Shirogane is so good, so fucking good at this that Keith can’t stand it. Even if he could move, his limbs are shaking and weak from how good the Admiral fucks him, how perfect his fat cock feels inside Keith. His rhythm is relentless, his angle perfect, and Keith sobs open-mouthed until he makes a mess of the sheets underneath his face. He’s dirty and disgusting and so, so hard and his body starts to tense up as blood roars in his ears and—

“Come on my fucking cock _right now,_ boy,” Shirogane snarls, slapping Keith on the ass so hard that the pain turns to pleasure and it pushes him over the edge.

He screams through his orgasm—the Admiral somehow manages to fuck him even harder during it, finding some hidden well of strength and speed that as far as Keith can tell doesn’t even obey the laws of physics. He’s like a machine, driving into Keith, driving him wild, and Keith makes a mess of the bed and cries for him. His screams turn to sobs as Shirogane hits him again, just because he can and he likes to watch Keith’s ass turn red from it.

“That’s it,” Shirogane says roughly, _“that’s_ how you treat a superior officer. God, what a perfect fucking slut you are.”

“Yes,” Keith moans. “I—I am, sir, yes, _fuck.”_

“You are.” The Admiral sounds far, far too arrogant and triumphant for as out of breath as he is. “You just take it, you’ll take anything as long as it’s from me, won’t you? Because you _belong to me.”_

Keith loses himself in a babble of affirmations as pleasure begins to take the turn to overstimulation. Shirogane’s cock feels big and rough inside him, and Keith tries to twist away, to get out of the Admiral’s uncompromising hold. It’s too much and he slurs out a string of words in complaint that don’t even make sense to his own ears.

He shakes uncontrollably underneath Shirogane, praying for it to be over and begging the universe to never let this end.

But it has to end.

Shirogane is deeply human and not even he can hold back. He comes with his cock buried deep inside Keith, a strained groan spilling from his mouth, and his hold on Keith’s wrists squeezes tight enough that Keith knows there will be bruises.

In the end, Keith can hardly believe that it’s really finished.

His sobs quiet slowly as silence falls. Keith works hard to catch his breath and calm his racing mind and heart, but there’s nothing that can help like passing time.

The Admiral fades in an instant. His hold on Keith’s wrists gentles, freeing him slowly; Keith’s hands fall to the bed beside him but he can’t yet find the strength to move them. The metal arm slides up his spine and starts stroking slowly through the sweaty strands of hair at the back of his head to comb out any tangles.

Keith’s breath shudders out of his chest and he closes his burning eyes.

A little whimper leaves his throat when Shiro pulls out, leaving him empty and strangely bereft. Shiro hums in response and rubs his free hand up and down the back of Keith’s thigh, catching on Keith’s leg hair in an oddly soothing way.

“Can I take the cuffs off?” Shiro whispers into the cooling air. Keith nods and engages a weak arm to tug a pillow down from the headboard so he can rest his face on cool fabric that hasn’t been drooled on.

Shiro moves efficiently without making any sudden, startling moments. The cuffs on either end of the bar unbuckle easily, freeing Keith in a matter of seconds. Carefully, Shiro guides his body to the side to take the weight off his knees and hips without leaving his legs hanging off the edge of the bed. Keith doesn’t move after that, too exhausted to do much more than lay on in a fetal position and force himself to not fall asleep. Shiro doesn’t push, though—he gently rubs just above Keith’s ankles where the bar had been attached, massaging away any possible soreness. Keith doesn’t think it hurts right now because the endorphins are still firing, but it feels nice anyway. It feels nicer when Shiro finishes with that and rubs his fingers along Keith’s calves.

“Here, baby, let me stretch your legs out,” Shiro says soothingly. Keith allows himself to be nudged and coddled into laying sideways across the bed on his stomach, his exhausted body protesting the movement.

Keith sighs when Shiro digs into Keith’s calves with the heel of his palm, working out the tense muscles there until they buzz with relief. When the touch moves up to the backs of his thighs, Keith moans deep in his throat with pure pleasure.

His own noise startles him—it’s not the scratch in his voice or the fact that he’s apparently not _completely_ exhausted. What he can’t believe is the spark of desire that accompanies Shiro’s thumbs rubbing up the inside of Keith’s thighs, right where Admiral Shirogane had hit him as punishment. Keith imagines the skin there is still pink, but as Shiro gently massages his hamstrings, Keith wants nothing more than to spread his legs wider, unhindered by the spreader bar this time.

He bites his lip. Shiro would do it, if Keith asked him to.

There’s no reason for him to be so aroused after such a draining scene and two completely spectacular orgasms, both with his cock completely untouched. But Keith’s mind is still flying high and every sensation feels like pleasure, even the sheets rubbing against his skin as he hikes a knee up a few inches. Keith can’t know exactly what he looks like, but he recognizes Shiro’s hitched breath.

A big, warm hand slides up to cover Keith’s sore ass and squeeze. The softest little noise fights its way out of Keith and Shiro inhales loud enough for Keith to hear it.

Shiro whispers, “Baby . . . .”

That’s Keith. He doesn’t feel like using his words—his brain is so fried he doesn’t exactly have words to use, at any rate—but he knows Shiro will understand.

He’ll definitely understand if Keith spreads his legs just a little more.

“Insatiable,” Shiro says, and the corner of Keith’s mouth curls up because it’s absolutely true. And considering that he let Shiro facefuck him today, he doesn’t think it’s absurd to now ask his husband to do just one final thing for him.

It’s all the convincing Shiro takes. His metal hand joins his left on Keith’s ass, spreading him open. Keith doesn’t want to think about how much time Shiro has spent tonight just staring at Keith’s hole—out of scene, it feels embarrassing how much he likes it when Shiro objectifies his body so completely. Keith can’t help the splash of redness that unfurls across his face, and he turns his head so he can use the pillow to close out the rest of the world.

But he can’t stop himself from hearing Shiro’s filthy mouth when it starts back up again.

“Can’t believe how beautiful you are here,” Shiro murmurs. One of his fingers sinks inside Keith. It feels like oversensitivity and ownership, and Keith squirms, not knowing what else to do.

But Shiro knows. “Sorry, baby, I won’t tease.”

Keith feels empty without him inside, but Shiro is there immediately to help fix it, breathing hotly over Keith’s hole before the flat of his tongue licks over Keith’s rim.

Shiro is so good with his mouth. His tongue is soothing and gentle where Keith is overused; his big hands are careful on Keith’s body now, reluctant to hurt him any further. Keith slides his left hand down the bed and wiggles his fingers until Shiro gets the hint and takes him up on the offer to lace their fingers together. It grounds Keith even further and he sighs into the arousal. He’s only half hard but that isn’t the point of this—Shiro’s not licking him out to get either of them off. This is just about closeness, about grounding themselves back in their bodies and their selves, and it feels so fucking good to have this without any ulterior motive or need.

The most exciting thing about this is the hint of stubble on Shiro’s jaw. In the long run, though, that part isn’t even really exciting when Keith considers he’s sat on Shiro’s face when he had a fully-grown beard. But that’s okay that it isn’t exciting, that’s good; Keith has had _plenty_ of excitement tonight, and now he just wants this lazy arousal. All he needs is Shiro close by and loving him.

It comes to an end naturally. Keith’s skin isn’t buzzing with arousal anymore, but there’s a simmering warmth in his belly that feels almost as good as an orgasm. Shiro presses soft, sweet kisses up and down the insides of Keith’s thighs even though it makes him twitch occasionally, but Shiro has him figured out well enough by now to avoid being kneed in the face.

“How’s that?” Shiro says into Keith’s skin.

Keith allows himself to smile fully and he squeezes Shiro’s hand tight. It’s always so good with Shiro.

He’d marry Shiro again, if he could.

 

 

***

 

Keith falls into the freshly made bed blissfully, the ends of his hair wet from the shower. He’s utterly exhausted and no small bit over stimulated from the heat of the water—he almost doesn’t want to get under the covers because no matter how soft their sheets are, it still seems like too much.

His eyes slip shut without his permission. Opening them again would be far too much work.

“I’ll give you a real massage tomorrow, if you feel up to it,” Shiro says quietly. He’s standing beside the bed and touches Keith’s cheek, thumb stroking over his scar.

That sounds nice. That sounds really, really nice, actually, and it doesn’t take Keith more than a second to start plotting how he’ll turn the tables on Shiro in return. Shiro has a lot of muscles and a lot of tension he could be holding in them—nothing can fix that like Keith can.

“It’s kind of creepy when you make that face with your eyes closed,” Shiro says with a soft laugh. Keith has no idea what _face_ he’s making, but he sticks his tongue out at Shiro. It’s a good enough response for now.

Keith hears a small huff of amusement, and then Shiro’s metal hand affectionately squeezes Keith’s knee. “Think you can drink another glass of water now?” Shiro asks.

Still absorbed in the darkness behind his eyelids, Keith nods his head slowly. The weight of Shiro sitting at the edge of the bed lifts, and Keith traces the quiet sound of Shiro’s bare feet shuffling across the hard floors and into their bathroom.

Shiro presses a glass into Keith’s hands once he returns. Conversationally, he says, “You’re the love of my life, Keith.”

It’s surprising enough that Keith actually fully opens both of his eyes to study Shiro.

But Shiro doesn’t give him anything to go on. He smiles, enigmatic and handsome, and gently clinks the rim of his glass against the rim of Keith’s.

And what else can Keith say?

“I love you, too.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning notes: shiro grabs keith by the throat twice as a powerplay tactic. keith is at no point unable to breathe, but he does wonder if there will be bruising.  
> he does struggle to breathe during a blowjob but hey, what can i say, Shiro (Voltron) Has A Large Cock
> 
> *
> 
> i would really love to hear reactions to this fic or answer questions about the universe i built around it, so please don't be afraid to drop a comment or shoot me a message on [twitter](https://twitter.com/disloyalpunk)! thank you very much for reading <3

**Author's Note:**

> [twitter](http://twitter.com/disloyalpunk)


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